


You Are Scent-sational

by LightningStriking



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Beefy Bucky, Bottom Steve Rogers, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Knotting, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Omega Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Rimming, Slow Burn, Stucky - Freeform, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningStriking/pseuds/LightningStriking
Summary: Alpha Bucky has spent the last three years in Russia, working hard to become as successful as possible.  All in the hopes of winning the heart of his best friend, Omega Steve, upon his return.  Yet when Bucky comes home at last he discovers the small, adorable Stevie he left behind has transformed into a giant golden Adonis, and Bucky knows he's going to have to step his game up to have the slightest chance.  Commence plan: Woo Steve Rogers Into Falling In Love Before He Realizes What's Happening.  Sneakily wearing Steve's clothes so the blond will continually be smelling, and smelling of, the Alpha, sounds like the perfect way to start.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my lovely readers! I've been hoping for some time for a new, chaptered story, and at last, I've begun one. This is my first foray into the A/B/O universe, so please excuse any variations from the general rules. I hope you enjoy this fic of oblivious boys in love, and as always, if you do like it, I love to hear from you!

Impatience was a thrum inside of him, a physical creature straining at the boundaries of his skin, sending his pulse racing, threatening to take control of his body. To shove forward, with no regards of those around him, all in a desperation to reach that which he had missed for far too long.

            Bucky however managed to restrain the urge that was so strong it was practically instinct, because contrary to his Catholic school teacher’s insistence he was more feral animal than well-mannered human, he was actually too polite to mow down all the innocent bystanders in his way. The very extremely, infuriatingly slow bystanders. Even so, his lungs were breathing deep, tasting the air for a scent he knew was too far away to sense. _Almost_ , he repeated the mantra. The word that had carried him through the last hour, the last day, the last three years. Almost. Almost. Almost back to Steve.

            It had been three years since Bucky had seen those blue sea eyes. Since he’d seen those plush lips curve into a blinding smile, the warmth of which he could feel inside his soul. An eternity, when Bucky had gone every single day of those three years without holding the man who was his heart within his arms. The need to wrap himself around that small frame, to assure himself that Steve was still alive, still here, was woven into his very cells, an incontrovertible truth he’d understood since the moment he’d set his eyes upon Steve. Bucky had simply _known_ that young boy would become his best friend, his soulmate, his everything.

            Leaving Steve had been the hardest thing Bucky had ever done. Yet he had done it _for_ Steve, and the future Bucky hoped they would build together. At long last, Bucky felt he might be worthy enough to express his undying feelings to Steve, and find out if his vision of what they could have was something Steve wanted to share.

            From the instant Bucky had tested as Alpha, the results only confirming what he’d already known, he’d sworn to himself he’d do whatever it took to provide Steve with the best life possible. Despite the fact Omega rights had progressed in leaps and bounds, to the point Omegas were now true equals who could and did hold high power positions, possessed full civil rights, and could maintain complete independence – no longer _belongings_ which Alphas past had so arrogantly had presumed they deserved – the ingrained desire to provide for his own Omega was instinctive. That possessive, protective drive to provide wasn’t nearly as strong with all Alphas, but Sister Mary Margaret hadn’t been entirely wrong when she’d called Bucky half feral. His instincts were matched only by his love for the boy who’d become the man he wanted to build his life around.

            Not that Bucky thought for an instant Steve was incapable of taking care of himself. To the contrary, Steve was the most capable, in control, _powerful_ soul Bucky had ever known. The fire and fight inside the small Omega matched any Alpha, and was the inspiration Bucky had called upon any time his own bravery had faltered. Some Alphas, arrogant and stuck in the obsolete, prejudiced mindset from generations past, still expected or even demanded a passive, differential personality in their Omegas. It was a sentiment Bucky could not understand. He knew that Steve’s Omega status in no way made him weaker, or less, but simply a perfect match for an Alpha – God, he hoped for himself. Bucky did not want to provide for Steve because he thought Steve could not provide for himself. Instead, he wanted to _prove_ himself to Steve, to give the man everything he could ever possibly want, in the hopes that Bucky just might deserve to call someone so incredible his own.

            With that in mind, Bucky had accepted the internship in Russia once he’d obtained his associates degree. It had been an incredible opportunity, one he’d known would only further his career, and therefore his ability to give the very best life for Steve. Yet still, he’d been reluctant to take it, hating the idea of being so very far from his lifelong best friend. Bucky had in fact only done so at Steve’s prompting.

            “This is what you’ve worked your whole life for Bucky. You have to do this,” Steve had urged, smiling softly when he saw the war of indecision on Bucky’s face. Taking Bucky’s hand in his own, surely oblivious to the instantaneous reaction it had upon Bucky, heart shuddering and pulse racing the way it always did at Steve’s slightest touch, Steve gave it a warm squeeze. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” Steve promised. Well aware his wellbeing was Bucky’s priority, though he never seemed to understand why. It was a promise Steve had made a thousand times over – every time he got into another fight he didn’t have the strength to win, each time his delicate frame had fallen ill. And despite the odds that had Bucky worrying for Steve’s life more times than he could count, Steve had always kept that promise. And so Bucky had left.

            The separation had been incredibly difficult. Not simply being away from Steve, but worrying that someone else would at last see all the things in the man that Bucky always had. Not only the physical beauty which was dazzling enough on its own. That sunshine bright hair, those arresting blue eyes, the strength hidden in the jaw line of that narrow face, gorgeously pale skin covering a delicate bone structure that had every protective instinct in Bucky demanding he wrap Steve up in the softest of blankets and hold him close. Bucky had been disconcerted and infuriated when more than one Alpha had taken shots at Steve for being “sickly, runty a poor excuse for an Omega”. How could they not see Steve was literal perfection? And when the heart of the best man Bucky had ever had the honor to know resided in that beautiful compact frame – the combination was irresistible.

            Each letter and each call had him frantic with worry that Steve would tell Bucky he’d found someone at last. The worry only increased since Bucky couldn’t ask for a faithfulness he’d not yet earned. Because he’d never _told_ Steve the depth of his feelings, the love that had been growing for decades now. He’d known from the beginning, Steve deserved nothing but the best. And until Bucky could offer him the best, he did not deserve to present himself as an Alpha potentially worthy of his best friend. But more, if he’d risked pouring out his heart for Steve to do with what he would, and Steve had actually accepted it… there was no way Bucky could ever have left after that. He would not have survived the distance after learning the precise taste and exact shape of Steve’s lips against his own. So Bucky had held it back, kept it in, and said a prayer of thanks every day he made it through without Steve finding someone else.

            Now though – now he had a world class education under his belt, extensive experience thanks to the internship, and an incredible job working for none other than _the_ Stark Industries, which he would begin as soon as he was settled back in New York. He’d done all he could to become the very best man possible. And he was ready to lay everything he owned at Steve’s feet – his heart, his very life – if only Steve would be his. Something Bucky would already be doing if this line would ever _move_.

            Nearly growling in ire at the line of people leisurely grabbing their bags from the overhead compartment, then slowly meandering their way to the front of the plane, as though they had enjoyed the nearly ten hour flight so much they were tempted to take up permanent residence in the narrow aisle, Bucky reminded himself once more he was too polite to literally run them over, tempting at is was. Or rather, his Catholic guilt would never let him forgive himself for such an act, which basically amounted to the same thing.

            The firm admonition had him bouncing in place rather than mowing down the sweet old lady hobbling along in front of him, like a wide receiver flattening any opposition on the way to the end zone, but only just. Steve was waiting for him. And Bucky was as ready as he’d ever been, having spent the duration of the flight from Moscow to New York rehearsing the declaration of love he’d been carefully crafting over the last twenty years. But sure, what was ten more minutes, he demanded rhetorically, feeling like a man on the edge.

            An eternity of throbbing heart beats and sparks of excitement trembling down his spine later, Bucky burst out of the arrivals gate, eyes scanning frantically for the one face he knew better than he knew his own. So ready to sweep that slight, perfect frame into his arms, and twirl Steve around in a hug that always had the blond cracking up as his feet dangling above the ground. His gaze skimmed over the crush of people as he searched for a short body swallowed up among the crowd.

            “Bucky!” Turning in delight at the sound of that deep, perfect voice, Bucky’s mouth parted to exclaim in delight – before falling further open. As he looked up. And up. And up.

            “ _Steve_?” Oblivious to the people flowing in rivers around them, Bucky only had eyes for his best friend. Who looked nothing like the man he’d left behind. “What… how…you-” he stuttered, simply unable to grasp the reality of what stood before him. Steve was as beautiful as ever, Bucky’s eyes were quick to assure him. And yet, nothing like he’d been. That slim, delicate frame had somehow become over six feet of sheer strength, golden skin glowing over perfectly sculpted muscle. There was nothing fragile about the man who gripped Bucky’s arms with a power that was an unexpected as it was arousing. But no, Bucky’s dazed mind realized as he stared into piercing blue eyes that for the first time ever were at the same level as his own. As he watched an all too familiar express of shy embarrassment shift over those features, beneath the obvious changes, Bucky could see they were still so much the same.

            “Um… surprise?” Steve chuckled awkwardly, expression flustered and uncertain. But his chuckle turned into an outright elated laugh when Bucky yanked him forward into a crushing embrace.

            “Steve,” Bucky breathed, arms tightening around the man who’s scent flowed around him, one of familiarity and comfort and _home_. Steve smelled, inevitably, of oil paints and charcoal dust. Yet beneath it all was a cotton candy sweetness all his own, and the unexpectedly enticing combination packed a punch. One that always left Bucky reeling, and desperate for more. This – this was precisely the same.

            “Bucky,” Steve replied softly, all the welcome in the world wrapped in that one word, his face tucked perfectly into Bucky’s neck. Holding Steve closer still, Bucky sighed a silent lament for his carefully prepared speech which now lay in shreds. Because it had been prepared for _Steve_ , for the model of perfection that no one else had ever been wise enough to see, leading Bucky to hope that he might have a chance of winning Steve’s affections when there was no competition. But with this practical Greek god standing before him, displaying a beauty that no one could be blind enough to miss, Bucky hadn’t the faintest idea how to try and prove himself worthy enough to win Steve now. This changed everything but one incontrovertible fact – Steve was now, and would forever be the one Bucky loved. This embrace might feel nothing like what Bucky had known before, yet he held exactly what he’d always wanted in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

“Are you sure you don't mind me staying with you?” Steve turned to glance at Bucky, eyebrow raised in surprised, considering this was the last question he would have expected.  Once they'd collected Bucky's luggage made their way to Steve's car, Steve had fully anticipated Bucky to pursue his previous line of questioning.  After all, disbelief had been all too evident on Bucky's face, and Steve more than anyone was aware what a startling transformation he'd undergone in Bucky's absence. There were still days where he looked in the mirror and felt his reflection was a stranger staring back at him.

            Steve knew he should have prepared Bucky ahead of time.  Or better yet, disclosed the shocking changes _as_ they'd happened.  Yet Steve had been in a state of shock himself when he hit an unexpected and drastic growth spurt at twenty.  His height had shot up, his asthma had subsided, and with the incredible new ability to put on muscle, his health had been better than anything he'd ever known before.  It had been amazing - and devastating. It was almost ironic to think by gaining the one thing he'd always dreamed of, he'd lost his chance at the one person he'd always hoped for.

            His youth a never ending string of maladies and injuries, Steve had known full well he was no one's image of an ideal Omega.  Particularly not an Alpha so achingly perfect as Bucky.  Yet he'd prayed each night, as he struggled to draw air into rattling lungs, ribs harsh beneath easily bruised skin, that he might grow better and be healthy enough for an Alpha.  For his best friend. For the boy he’d fallen for the moment they’d met, a wide grin spreading across Bucky’s face as he invited Steve to share his toys.

            It seemed that fate had a dark sense of humor, and the joke was at Steve's expense. Because while he was now the picture of health - something that still astounded him - he was miles _further_ away from being a desirable Omega.  When people looked at him, they saw the size and strength of an Alpha, confusing if not outright distaste rippling over their features when they caught the unmistakable scent that marked him as an Omega.  And while Steve knew full well Omegas, just like Alphas and Betas, came in all shapes and sizes, he was all too aware of what was considered desirable. Omegas who were small, lithe, dainty and delicate.  All things he would never be again.

            Steve knew he should have told Bucky, but he'd been ashamed by this body he’d never wanted to have, missing his smaller frame with a grief that ached.  And more, he’d been afraid Bucky would think less of him for his transformation.  Yet here Bucky sat, more gorgeous than ever, with the kitten soft hair he'd grown out long enough to be pulled back into a messy bun, a shadow of scruff highlighting the gorgeous line of his jaw, that body that had also filled out with enough muscle to match Steve's physique displayed enticing in a tight red Henley. And he was still smiling that beautiful smile of his, just for Steve.  Steve felt nothing but relief that despite Bucky's evident, and entirely understandable surprise, there was no reservation or disgust in his gaze. Just the never ending warmth he'd displayed their whole friendship.  Oh, Steve wished, if only that was enough.

            Shoving aside his well-worn longing, Steve rolled his eyes.  “Of course I  don't mind, you dork.  Now that you're finally back, you'll be lucky if I let you out of my sight.”  And crap.  So much for successfully masking his pathetic pining.   Clearly he'd have to work back up to the level of casual friendship he'd faked for years.

            Yet Bucky's grin only grew, crinkles around his eyes deepening as he chuckled.  “I know what you mean.  I'm afraid if I leave you alone for a day, you might be freakin’ Mr. Universe by the time I saw you again.”

            Despite his guilt and constant shame over his size, Steve had to let out a laugh.  That was more what he'd been expecting, wrapped up perfectly in a layer of Bucky sass.

            “I think Mr. Schwarzenegger's title is safe for now,” Steve assured, breath catching when Bucky placed a hand over his on the gear shift.

            “Steve, I gotta say… when you told me you were doing better health wise, part of me thought it was just you trying to get me not to worry about you so much. When you never sounded sick on the phone though, I was so damn happy for you, cause if anyone deserves a break from all those health problems, it is you. But when you said things had turned around… this wasn't exactly what I thought you meant,” Bucky admitted, waving a hand at Steve to encompass what all “this” meant.

            Guilt surging harder, Steve bit his lip as he turned back to the road.  “I know. I'm sorry, I should have -”

            “Hey,” Bucky cut him off quickly, giving his hand a squeeze.  “Don't worry about that.  I'll just glad you're better.  You _are_ better, right? You didn’t sign up for some top secret government project that turned you into a super hero? Not doping up on steroids? If you try and lie to me Rogers, I _will_ get the truth. From your mother.”

            Steve couldn't help but crack up at the accusations, Bucky's fake stern voice, and totally serious threat to go to his mom for answers. “No drugs or president sanctioned experiments, I swear,” he replied, raising his hand briefly as though under oath.  “The doctors can't explain it, but somehow my body just... healed. Asthma gone, an immune system that actually does its job, a body that can handle pretty much anything.”

            “I'm so glad, Stevie.”  There was nothing but genuine happiness in Bucky's voice.  Even as Steve felt his throat tightening at the clear sign of affection that might not be all he wanted, but was still everything to him, Bucky continued.  “Now I can make you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island until you throw up, with no guilt whatsoever.”

            Laughing until he was as breathless as he'd ever been with his asthma, Steve wiped away tears, that were thankfully of mirth rather than an excess of pathetically wistful emotions, feeling so damn happy. Bucky was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Steve, ashamed of being big and muscley! If only he knew Bucky loves him no matter what...


	3. Chapter 3

Breathing deep, Bucky felt the last lingering bits of tension that had been his constant companion when he was a world away from the person he loved without reservation, melt away at last. Steve’s scent was everywhere in his apartment, absorbed into the very walls, and surrounded by it, Bucky felt a contentment he’d forgotten he could ever know. Everything within him relaxed at the unmistakable proof that he was _here_ , that Steve was here, that things were as they had once been, when the two had spent so much time together their scents had become intertwined. Few things had grieved Bucky as much as the day he could no longer smell Steve on his skin in Russia.

            Unpacking the last of his bags, the contents fairly minimal considering the length of time he’d been away, Bucky smiled at the comfort of the guest room that would now be his for the immediate future. Steve’s touch was everywhere, from the warm, welcoming décor to the art that hung on the gorgeously painted walls. Omegas characteristically were wonderful at creating beautiful homes, ones that Alphas were fortunate to share, but as Bucky slid his suitcase under the bed that he could all too easily imagine Steve sprawled across, he knew this was simply Steve being Steve. Artistic, wonderful, amazing Steve.

            Stepping out into the main living space, the floor plan an open sprawl, kitchen separated from the living room by a tall counter, he watched as Steve pulled out a few beers, and popped the caps off. As enticing as the prospect of enjoying a beer was, particularly when served by a man as gorgeous as Steve – God, so many muscles – Bucky lingered near one of the many canvases gracing the exposed brick walls. It was a street scene, unmistakably the neighborhood they’d grown up in, hazy through a mist of rain that made the colors melt into each other. Shapes vague, paint a profusion of shades, it was absolutely stunning.

            “Steve, this is incredible,” Bucky spoke, his tone taking on the edge of reverence that he knew showed up any time he looked at Steve’s work. But each time he gazed upon Steve’s art, it amazed him all over again, how astoundingly _talented_ Steve was.

            Turning when Steve moved closer and held out a beer, Bucky’s awed smile faded as he took in Steve’s pleased flush at the compliment. “I hate that I didn’t make it back for your first show. I’d always promised I’d be there…” Bucky trailed off with a sigh, turning back towards the painting. He knew he’d made the right choice in taking the internship, but there were so many things he’d missed. Wincing as Steve elbowed him with a casual strength that was still unexpected, Bucky pouted as he rubbed his ribs pointedly, refusing to be charmed by Steve’s unapologetic chuckle.

            “Bucky, don’t. I know you would have been there if you could. Just like I wish I’d been able to come to you to celebrate when you won the full time position at Peremeshcheniye Mira,” Steve said, his smile understanding as he named the company Bucky had interned with before being hired on for a two year rotation. “We were both just doing our best to get by, you know that.”

            Turning now to face Steve properly, dazzled all over again at being able to look straight into those eyes, so earnest and blue, Bucky nodded in reluctant agreement. They both had been, Steve painting night and day, struggling just to keep food on the table and a roof over his head, until his first big break had finally come. And Bucky had been working full time at the unpaid internship, picking up any spare work on the side to keep the wolves at bay. Once he’d been hired on, eating regularly hadn’t become the struggle it had been before, but time and money had still been prohibitive when it came to flying across the world.

            “And besides,” Steve tapped his beer against the bottle Bucky had yet to drink from in a companionable cheers. “You’re here now, that’s what matters.”

            At that, Bucky’s grin returned. Yes he was. And if he had his way, this “temporary roommate arrangement” would just slide right into permanent. Because he never wanted to be without Steve again. Not to mention, Steve had a gorgeous apartment, and Bucky concluded after taking a sip of the unfamiliar beer, excellent taste in beverages. Now all he had to do was figure out how to woo Steve, who was surely getting advances left and right.

            It would take charm, and subtlety, he decided. Hell, Bucky could do subtle. After all, he’d been so subtle about his infatuation which had slid straight into love, Steve had had no idea about it for several decades. Although, if Bucky intended to get anywhere now, he couldn’t continue to be _that_ discrete. “You’ve got that right. And hey, next show you have, I’ll be first person in line to get in,” Bucky promised, meaning every word.

            Steve flushed once more, as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Um, actually, about that. I kind of have a show tomorrow.”

            “What?” Bucky demanded, grin widening. “You holding out on me, Rogers? Again?” He added with a wink as he skimmed his eyes up and down Steve’s body. There – charming, not _too_ subtle.

            Steve snorted out a laugh. “Jerk. No, I just wasn’t sure if you’d be interested, since you just got here. I didn’t want to assume-”

            “Oh, there’s no way you’re getting out of me going now, buddy. It’s a date.” Watching Steve’s face turn a deeper shade of delectable pink, Bucky’s smirk turned the slightest bit wicked. Looks like he’d just found where to start his campaign.  

 

 

Sitting back with a groan, Bucky patted a hand over the stomach he was now certain would not fit into his skinny jeans.  Which was a damn shame considering they featured heavily in the charm campaign he'd been carefully crafting for the last several hours - since the demise of his love confessing he'd been carefully crafting over the last twenty years.  Still worth it though, Bucky decided as he glanced at the last remaining slice of pizza, sitting so temptingly in the box, mocking his lack of self-control.

            “Fuck that was good.  Even better than I remember,” Bucky moaned as he closed his eyes to block out the visual enticement.  He was immediately assaulted with a much more powerful enticement.  Damn, Steve smelled good.  The scent of him was redolent with happiness, and everything in Bucky felt smug and satisfied at the proof his Omega was safe and content.  Because while, sure, Bucky knew Steve was not _yet_ his, the Alpha in him couldn't care less. 

            It felt Steve slumped against his side as they watched crappy action films while catching up on all the tiny details of each other's lives they'd missed, and noted happily that despite the change in size, Steve still fit perfectly against him.  The Alpha was even happier to note Steve was as comfortable as ever with the level of physical contact and affection they'd always maintained before.  Best of all, Steve hadn't protested when Bucky insisted on paying for the pizza they'd had delivered - the Omega allowing the Alpha to provide for him.  Now if Bucky could oh so slyly manage to get the blanket draped over the back of the couch snuggled around Steve, he'd want for nothing more.

            Cracking an eye open at Steve's snort, Bucky's contentment grew as he watched Steve snag the last piece and cram half of it in his mouth in a single bite.  “What, no good pizza in Russia? Guess you'd better not stay away so long,” Steve slurred shamelessly around a mouthful of pizza, like the occasionally gross, but still disgustingly adorable dork he was.

            “They definitely didn't have what I wanted to eat,” Bucky replied distantly, watching Steve lick over those plush lips.  Because he may have been full, but damn the longer he sat next to the blond, the more Bucky wanted to take a bite. _Charm_ , he reminded himself.  _Be subtle_.  And there was nothing subtle about forcibly pining Steve to the couch, wrapping him in a fuzzy blanket like a hostage to cuddles, and kissing the hell out of him.  It did sound like a damn good Plan B though.

            “You're definitely right about not staying away too long.  I missed everything, and everybody.  You think the crew would want to get together anytime soon?” Bucky wondered, missing the motley group of friends they'd assembled over the years.  While the absence from Steve had been the hardest, Bucky _had_ missed every one of his friends and was looking to reconnect with them.

            “Um, I don't know.  Maybe,” Steve replied, his voice a study in casualness.  Which immediately had Bucky's focus narrowing in.  Setting aside his beer bottle, Bucky turned to face Steve on the couch.

            “Alright Rogers.  Spill.”

            Suddenly finding the sight of Steven Seagal fighting off fifteen inept evil henchman riveting, Steve stared intently at the TV as he cleared his throat.  “Spill? Spill what?  There's nothing to spill.”

            It was fortunate Steve had pursued a career in art rather than espionage, Bucky mused idly.  He was a terrible liar.  The adorable flush which had currently reached his ears gave him away every time.  “Uh huh.  So when's the get-together?”

            Huffing out a noise that was half aggrieved sigh, half reluctant chuckle, Steve rolled his eyes.  “Friday.  And they wanted it to be a surprise party so you damn well better act surprised.”

            “Then they should have known better than to tell you about it,” Bucky laughed, the sound only growing louder when Steve flicked him on the forehead.

            “It was my idea, you asshole,” Steve exclaimed, even as he laughed as well. 

            Smiling at Steve with so much affection it hurt, Bucky shook his head, voice going soft.  “You really are too good to me, Steve.”

            “Nothings too good for you, Buck,” Steve replied, sincerity shining in those gorgeous eyes.  And really, was it any wonder Bucky loved him helplessly? Sneakily twitching the edge of the blanket until it slid just enough to drape over Steve's shoulders, Bucky bit his lip to hold back premature declarations of eternal devotion.  He had to _show_ the blond nothing was too good for Steve.  Bucky couldn't wait to get started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw yis, Bucky is about the charm the heck out of an unsuspecting Steve! Stay tuned for the next chapter, their art show date, even though clueless Steve has no idea that's exactly what it is ;)
> 
> Note: According to Google translate, Peremeshcheniye Mira stands for Moving The World in Russian. If Google has led me astray, please let me know and I'll be happy to correct it :)


	4. Chapter 4

Fighting with the red silk tie lying unhelpfully around his neck, Steve sighed as he did his best to get it straight. Despite his creative abilities, the fine art of tying a tie was something that seemed to be entirely beyond him, to his continued frustration. Considering he generally worked in paint splattered jeans or comfy sweat pants, this generally wasn’t problematic. But when putting on an art showing, he felt the need to put on a good show of himself as well. And particularly tonight, when he would be going with Bucky for the very first time… Bucky, who had called it a _date_.   Steve was certain Bucky had simply been joking with his choice of words, and yet the very concept of going to the show with Bucky not simply as his friend, but as his date - it was enough to have him mangling his tie beyond all recovery at the prospect.

            “Get it together Rogers,” he muttered in frustration at the prospect that he knew was nothing more than a fantasy. Scowling at the strip of silk that seemed to be smirking knowingly at him, Steve was ready to abandon the judgmental clothing accessory all together, because who needed criticism from their own outfit, when he heard the knock at the front door. Blinking in confusion, uncertain who would be showing up moments before he was heading out, Steve gave up his tie as a lost cause, and went to open the door. Where his confusion slid straight into shock, seeing Bucky standing outside the door.

            “Good evening,” Bucky said, smile gorgeous as his eyes skimmed slowly down Steve’s body, then just as leisurely back up again. His grin only widening as Steve felt a flush burning beneath his skin, Bucky winked. “I’m here to pick up the most amazing artist in the entire universe for a his own kick-ass show.”

            Despite the flush, Steve chuckled as he rolled his eyes. “Well, you’ll have to settle for me, ya punk,” he began, before his voice slid away when Bucky pulled his hand from behind his back, and then held out a single, perfect crimson rose.

            “There’s nothing about you that means settling,” Bucky drawled, those perfectly sculpted lips caressing each word. And shit, any chance Steve had of reining in his hopeless longing was lost when Bucky helpfully pressed the flower into his limp hand, and then reached up to effortlessly maneuver Steve’s tie into beautiful submission, the traitorous piece of fabric happy to cooperate. Biting back the entirely embarrassing moan that wanted to spill out of him, Steve sank his teeth deep into his lip at the erotic feel of Bucky lightly tugging on fabric around his neck, gripping the beautiful flower to keep from grabbing the man standing before him.

            Bucky was stunning. The black on black suit fit him to perfection, the cut of the fabric hugging every inch of his thick, muscular build. He’d shaved the shadow of a beard, exposing the sharp edge of his jawline, the enticing curve of his mouth. Hair pulled back into a neat French braid, he was incredible. Blinking, all Steve could think was that he could continue to paint the rest of his life, and never come close to creating art that would rival Bucky in beauty.

            “So, ready to go?” Bucky questioned when Steve continued to stare, speechless.

            “Uh…”

            “Here,” Bucky said helpfully, plucking the flower back from Steve’s numb fingers, and with a little chuckle, brushed by Steve into the kitchen where he pulled a prefilled vase from the fridge, and set the rose in it. “Perfect. Shall we?”

            _Get it together Rogers_ , Steve berated himself once more. Giving himself a mental shake, he managed a smile that while shy, was completely genuine. “Yeah.” And maybe indulging in the fantasy where Bucky was his wasn’t so wrong – not when it felt so real.

 

 

Bucky was in awe. Steve stood among a group of admirers, a polite smile upon his face as they all vied to shower him in compliments, every one of them well deserved. Bucky had been so looking forward to attending Steve’s art show, something he’d dreamed of and encouraged Steve towards ever since they were kids, when Steve was certain his paintings would never belong in a gallery. Bucky had known better, and now watching the way Steve settled into himself, nothing but confidence in his face, he couldn’t be prouder. This was precisely who Steve was meant to be. Fearless, self-assured, and certain of his own talent and worth.

            Bucky knew all too well Steve had felt so insecure about countless aspects of himself his whole life, his health and attractiveness uppermost about them. Even now, Bucky had come to realize in the past twenty-four hours, despite what Bucky saw as literal physical perfection, Steve was still just as shy about his appearance as ever, given the way he would often curl into himself, as though to make himself smaller. Fuck, Bucky wanted nothing more to peel Steve out of that exquisite suit he wore, and kiss every inch of skin until Steve could not think at all, much less feel something as ridiculous as self-consciousness. _Soon,_ he told himself, refusing to consider for an instant all he wanted might not someday come true.

            Sipping from the glass of wine one of the waiters had offered him, Bucky smiled to himself as he shifted closer to a examine one of the larger canvases, lights expertly hung to highlight the artistry of the piece. “Exquisite, isn’t it?”

            Looking over, Bucky nodded at the handsome man who had shifted to stand beside him, gesturing with his own glass at the painting. “The artist is really something isn’t he?”

            Glancing back at Steve, warmth spreading within him when Steve caught his gaze and smiled happily, Bucky let out a chuckle. “Yeah, he certainly is.” Watching the byplay with an openly interested expression, the stranger held out a hand.

            “You must be Bucky. I’m Sam Wilson.” Taking the proffered hand, Bucky met the wide, toothy grin with a surprised smile of his own.

            “Sam! I’ve heard so much about you. It’s good to finally meet you.” It was Sam who had originally sold Steve’s work in his gallery, and hosted his first show. Steve credited the gallery owner with giving him his big break, and had come to consider him a friend. Bucky had looked forward to meeting the man who had been smart enough to realize Steve’s genius, and give him the opportunity for his art to be recognized and appreciated on a larger scale.

            “I could say the same. Steve’s always going on about his _good_ friend Bucky.” Seeing the friendly smirk spreading across the gallery owner’s attractive features, Bucky raised a brow, tucking his free hand into his pocket.

            “Oh?” Bucky prompted, more than eager to hear anything Steve had to say. Was there a chance Steve had been talking about Bucky in a way that revealed the blond thought of him as more than just a friend? God, he could hardly dare to hope.

            “Suffice it to say, he was excited to have you come back to New York,” Sam simply stated.

            “Well, the feeling is definitely mutual,” Bucky replied fervently. Making a humming noise, Sam nodded to himself, as though he’d received confirmation of some sort. Tapping their glasses together companionably, Sam clapped Bucky on the shoulder with his free hand.

            “In that case, I’m glad for both of your sakes you’re back. But I feel I should point out… it looks like you’re not the only one interested in spending some quality time with Steve,” Sam observed, nodding back towards Steve. Who, Bucky immediately observed, had been cornered by one particularly persistent looking fan.

            Seeing the scowl setting over Bucky’s features, Sam gave his shoulder one last squeeze. “You gunna do something about that?”

            “Oh hell yeah,” Bucky muttered, slinging back the rest of his wine, passing the glass over when Sam helpfully held out his hand.

            “I think you and me are going to get along. Go get him, tiger,” Sam grinned.

            Needing no further encouragement, Bucky strode across the room, absently making a note to buy this Sam a drink some time. Clearly the man had recognized the claim Bucky had yet to officially make over Steve, and that alone endeared him to Bucky. First though, Bucky had some ass to kick. Metaphorically of course, he reminded himself when his Alpha instincts had him fully inclined to punch first, politely ask the well-dressed middle aged gentleman to back the hell off later.

            “Bucky!” Steve exclaimed, voice pitching with an edge of desperation all too easy for Bucky to read. Yet it was the palpable note of anxiety twining through his scent, turning that delectably sweet aroma unacceptably metallic, that had Bucky moving on pure impulse.

            “Stevie,” Bucky smiled warmly as he effortlessly twined an arm around Steve’s waist, tugging him close. To his relief, and shamelessly, his complete delight, Steve cuddled into the embrace. “Who’s this?” He questioned, voice pure charm. The smile he aimed at the man, pure challenge.

            “Phil Coulson, pleased to meet you,” the man replied, grasping Bucky’s hand, completely undeterred by the strength of Bucky’s grasp. “I was just expressing to Mr. Rogers here how captivating his technique is. There’s so much passion in his work, it’s truly incredible. I was just saying how I would love to meet him at his convenience to discuss that… passion,” Phil continued, the way his eyes lingered on Steve leaving no doubt what sort of discussion he had in mind. And it certainly was not a verbal one.

            Possessiveness growling within him as he scented the Alpha pheromones swirling off the other man, the scent one of naked desire, Bucky tugged Steve closer yet. It wasn’t logic, it wasn’t planned. It was pure impulse that had his own scent blanketing the blond. And it was a declaration of clear ownership, protective and adoring.

            Eyes widening, Phil jerked back slightly, gaze bouncing back and forth between Steve and Bucky, before he mumbled a hasty goodbye and scurried away. Biting his lip, Bucky figured he should probably feel bad he’d scared off a potential buyer. More, he probably should release Steve from the firm embrace. Probably. But when Steve turned those blue eyes upon Bucky, looking nothing but relieved, Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to let go. “So, Mr. Rogers, care to show me the… passion in this painting over here?” Bucky grinned, pointing at one of the pieces he had yet to examine up close.

            Laughing aloud, Steve seemed to press the teeniest bit closer, before steering Bucky over. “Absolutely, Mr. Barnes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay Sam! Always the helpful wingman. And next chapter... we earn out E rating :D Stay tuned, my lovely readers.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve was in agony.

            The night had been amazing, the best art show he’d ever held. And while he’d sold enough paintings to have even Sam rubbing his hands together in glee, it hadn’t been the money made, or even the effusive amounts of compliments his work had garnered – something that still left him flat footed when he was still adjusting to the idea people _liked_ his art, much less wanted to purchase it – that made the night so incredible. It had been experiencing it all with Bucky.

            Bucky, who after saving him from the advances Steve had been too startled and uncertain to fend off, had stuck close the rest of the night. His arm wrapped firmly around Steve’s waist, he’d leaned over from time to time to rub his cheek against Steve’s shoulder, and Steve _knew_ it meant nothing. It was a move Bucky had performed countless times before, always with the completely selfless intention of saving Steve from his own awkwardly polite impulses. At the first sign of social injustice, Steve had no problem getting in someone’s face, with his words or his fists if necessary, even back when he hadn’t had the size to effectively carry through his stern threats. Yet when it came to someone paying him the sort of attention he had no idea how to handle, he became a stuttering statue, completely unable to extricate himself from the situation.

            Bucky though, he’d always known precisely how to get Steve out of such plights. Years after he’d last rescued Steve, he’d still known in an instant, because Bucky was perfect. Being perfect, he’d made sure to stay close, ensuring Steve would not be caught again by the rather persistent Alpha who’d made a habit of attending each art showing Steve put on. It had been wonderful – and torturous. The scent of Bucky had engulfed Steve, making him feel safe and cared for and _owned_. Fuck, it had been bad enough with Bucky living in his space, the gorgeous brunet exuding his arousing scent until Steve couldn’t take a breath without tasting it. Wood smoke, dark chocolate and the bite of autumn, that aroma was one Steve could pick out in the thickest of crowds.

            Steve had thought he’d carefully considered the impact having Bucky in his home would have on him. But either he’d seriously overestimated his self-control, or time had dulled the memory of just how deeply the smell of Bucky, of _Alpha_ , mouth-watering and addictive, affected him. Or perhaps it had only grown stronger in the time Bucky had been away. The possibility wouldn’t surprise Steve, given how Bucky had only grown bigger, thicker, and more enticingly sexy in his years abroad.

            Regardless, Steve had been fighting the sharp edged blade of arousal for the last twenty-four hours, and that had been _before_ Bucky had wrapped him up in his scent like the most comforting yet stimulating of blankets. When Bucky had absently rubbed against him, soaking his own scent deeper into Steve, it had only enhanced the sensation that tonight truly had been a date, the likes of which Steve had barely dared dream of.

            When the show had concluded, Bucky had caught Steve up in the warmest of hugs, uttering soft words of pride over Steve’s accomplishments, the tip of his nose dragging across the sensitive skin of Steve’s neck. For the briefest of moments, so caught up in the fantasy of what he’d always wanted, Steve had forgotten himself and pressed in, eyes shut tight as he nuzzled into Bucky’s neck in return. He’d breathed deep, drawing Bucky inside himself with each inhale. Until he’d felt Bucky fall still in his embrace, and had quickly jerked back, regret and embarrassment flaring hot and sticky inside his chest.

            When Bucky had stared at him for long moments, before he smiled once more, gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze and suggested they hit the road for home, there had been no disgust, or worse yet, anger in his expression. Instead, there had been a hint of surprise, quickly swallowed up by a look Steve could not begin to interpret, when his surely incorrect instincts told him Bucky almost looked … satisfied? But that could not be. Regardless, he’d been grateful Bucky had made no mention of it, and once they’d reached the apartment, Steve had quickly excused himself to go to bed.

            Which is where he now lay, having kicked off the cloying grasp of the suit, cool air gliding over his boxer brief clad body. And yet, he found no peace, when he found he could still smell Bucky, the scent teasing him from where Steve’s suit lay mangled on the floor. He was pretty sure that damn tie was straight up laughing at him now.

            “Fuck,” Steve muttered, feeling his dick thickening as he dwelled on how perfectly he’d fit in Bucky’s arms. He’d never once considered since he’d grown, that that could be the case - that Bucky and he might come together so seamlessly. Yet the way Bucky had held him, tucking Steve protectively close as his lips moved, muscled physiques matching up perfectly, breath a wash of warmth of Steve’s skin as he spoke – Steve couldn’t help but wonder if they were now physically more suited than ever.

            Breath catching as he imagined all too clearly how the weight of Bucky would surround him, press him into the mattress, Steve groaned. His hand ghosted over his aching erection as he fantasized that Bucky were the one touching him instead. Steve bit his lip, conscience warring with the pulsing need that had had him on edge all evening, or truly since Bucky’s arrival. It wasn’t right to get off thinking of his best friend, when his best friend was literally one room over…. Right? Drifting the smell of Bucky, so strong and enticing and _Alpha_ over to where Steve lay, his tie seemed to have other ideas.

            “Fuck it,” Steve groaned, kicking off his boxer briefs, breath hissing out of him at the feel of the cool air caressing every inch of him. The sensation heightened the burning need running beneath sensitized skin, and he could feel himself growing slick. Biting back a whimper, Steve gripped his cock, the firm touch having his hips jerk in helpless response.

            And really, the tie challenged, why the fight when he’d done this so many times before? Steve stroked the length of his cock, grip just the right side of painful, imagining Bucky’s beautiful, skilled, strong hands were the ones tugging and wringing each drop of ecstasy from him. Moaning, Steve’s back arched as his painter’s mind filled in each stroke of the fantasy with picture perfect precision. How Bucky’s eyes would darken from their normal gorgeous stormy grey, black swallowing the shade which haunted Steve’s dreams. How a flush would rise in Bucky’s exquisitely gorgeous skin as with each caress of his talented fingers he’d adoringly bring Steve closer to complete bliss.

            Distantly Steve knew he needed to be silent, that this should not be heard. Yet it was an obscure consideration, as his free hand pinched at his nipples before gliding down tensing abdomen muscles, over the sharp jut of his hip bone, trailing further, further, until he could feel the slick practically pouring from him, his entrance aching and clenching, so ready to be filled. Unable to bite back the breathy moans any longer, past the point of even realizing he should, Steve keened aloud as he so easily pressed two fingers deep, his body giving way effortlessly. The way it was meant to for his Alpha.

            Trembling as he skimmed practiced fingers over the glorious bundle of nerves inside, Steve’s other hand tugged hectically at his cock, twisting over the flushed, leaking head. Every touch within the wet heat of his body sent sparks glittering down his spine in an electric profusion. The shamelessly wet noise of his pleasuring himself, fingers a poor substitution for the hard, hot length he wanted buried within him, filled the room.

            “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Steve whined as he drew the intoxicating scent of Bucky, the only man he’d ever wanted, deeper inside of him. The way he desperately wished he could draw Bucky’s body deeper inside of him. The way he hopelessly craved Bucky to sink teeth deep into the heavy muscle where neck met shoulder, intimately, irrevocably connecting them as one, the mating bite what he desired most of all.

            Cry punched out of his lungs, Steve trembled violently as his climax overtook him, the sensation nearly shocking in its intensity. Thick ribbons of cum splashed across his stomach, up his chest, a splattered display of pleasure boarding on pain. More yet poured across the hand still stroking his spurting cock, milking every last drop until at last he was too sensitized to take any more. With a groan, he slid his deeply stroking fingers free of clenching muscles, and dropped his sticky hands limply onto the mattress.

            Blinking at the mess he’d made of himself, then up at the ceiling, the blank space seeming to gaze at him with sympathetic understanding, while the tie lying on the ground gloated with well-deserved superiority. Steve breathed through the lingering tremors running through his released covered, sweaty, slick sticky body, let his head drop back onto his pillow with a muffled thud.

            “Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * shivers, clears throat * Ahem. Well. I hope you all enjoyed that :D Steve certainly did.


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky was in ecstasy. Tonight had been a dream, one he’d held in his heart for as long as he can remember. Being with Steve, holding Steve, practically showing off Steve as his own – he’d _adored_ it. While the protective instinct that had taken over, deciding his course of actions for him, had been very real, the decision to linger in the role had been all his own. When Steve had stared at him with those wide, thankful eyes, Bucky couldn’t find a single reason to let go. And so he had experienced the pure ecstasy of learning that new, amazing body in ways even curling up next to each other on the couch had not granted him.

            Bucky’s hand had run down the graceful curve then dip of Steve’s back. He’s grasped those ridiculously thickly muscled arms. He’d drawn the scent of Steve, of happy Omega, deep into his lungs, until he felt it saturated his very veins. And while he’d played it lightly, like a favor, not wanting to scare Steve off with what the blond might interpret as a sudden and unexpected display of ownership, so much of him had wanted to gently wrap his hand lightly, adoringly around the expanse of Steve’s throat. Kiss him until Steve could taste nothing but Bucky on his lips, in his mouth. And let everyone know precisely who Bucky’s heart belonged to.

            However Bucky had restrained himself from a display that he knew would be anything but subtle. The hug he’d pulled Steve into at the end though – that had been no ploy. He’d had no ulterior motive. Instead, he was nothing but ecstatic for his best friend, and the success he’d so rightfully earned. Steve’s art was _incredible_ , and witnessing him step into the role of professional artist, it was everything Bucky had ever wanted for him. Bucky felt truly honored to attend a show at last, and simply bask in the beauty Steve created.

            Then … and then Bucky had felt it. The way Steve had melted into the embrace in a way he _never_ had before. Every part of Steve had gone liquid soft as he relaxed utterly, his trust in Bucky gorgeous and complete. Then Steve had _inhaled_ , deep and deliberate, drawing Bucky’s scent as deep into his lungs as Bucky had been doing discretely with Steve’s all night.

            Everything within Bucky had fallen still. Frozen, stunned, and then thawed into consideration. Pulling back achingly slowly, Bucky had stared into those eyes gone wider yet, needing to unravel whatever emotions he could feel churning in the body he still held in his arms. What Bucky had seen had stunned him. Embarrassment, anxiety, perhaps a touch of legitimate fear. But most astonishing of all was how the crystalline blue had been nearly swallowed by black. The darkened gaze a visual confirmation of the sudden hint of arousal Bucky could taste in Steve’s scent, deeper, darker than his usual cotton candy sweetness.

            It had been real. Bucky had told himself that a thousand times over on the way home, when Steve drove back, unusually quiet. As though to convince a mind that could not quite comprehend it. It might not be love. He might not have seen a desire for forever in Steve’s eyes, not yet. But it had been real. Steve had leaned into the strength of his grasp, smelled Bucky’s scent, and _wanted_.

            The knowledge had nearly undone Bucky. Steve had wanted him. Within that dark gaze Bucky had seen the true beginning of everything. And in that moment, his plan to win Steve had become so much clearer. Charm, yes. Subtle, though perhaps not as subtle as he’d first planned. Because if his smell was what enticed Steve to him, he would use it without shame. He would take any opportunity to mark the unsuspecting blond with his scent. A brush of his body, a quick rub of his face and neck scent glands over Steve’s skin.

            Perhaps most devious of all, Bucky contemplated the idea of secreting away pieces of Steve’s clothing, one at a time, with all the subtlety he could manage. To wear them, soaking them with his own scent, and then return them. So that Steve would forever be wrapped up in him, Bucky’s embrace a physical thing.

            It was duplicitous. Ridiculously bold. Perhaps even pushing the line beyond anything acceptable. The Alpha within him did not care. He would do whatever it took to have Steve look at him like that, again and again. And if Steve took pleasure in his scent, then Bucky would use it ruthlessly.

            Flushed all over at the idea of pressing his scent into Steve’s skin in much more intimate ways, Bucky turned off the movie he’d been playing quietly upon his arrival home, not wanting to disturb Steve’s sleep, and headed to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. Gulping it down in one, he sighed at what he knew was only a temporary respite from the pulsing arousal surging through him at the sensory memory of Steve actively cuddling into him. Wryly staring down at the evidence of his unrelenting want for the blond, Bucky decided to take himself and his thoroughly optimistic erection – which was certain the flare of desire he’d seen in Steve’s eyes was _more_ than enough invitation to initial the most intimate of skin privileges – off for a quick shower. A quick, and painfully cold one.

            Heading down the hallway towards the bathroom, Bucky paused, brow furrowing at the faint gasp he heard escape from the Steve’s room. Protective concern surging to the surface, Bucky laid his hand upon the door, readying to break it down over the slight hint of distress, a thousand concerns playing through his head, the worry well-worn and achingly familiar. A nightmare, a sickness, the illness that had preyed upon Steve so swiftly and frequently in his youth returning. Steve said he was better now, but what it, what if – not now, he couldn’t fall ill now, not when Bucky was finally back – what if. Muscles ready to literally shove the door from its hinges in a mad fit of fear induced Alpha fury abruptly froze. Because Bucky suddenly heard the moan that followed up the gasp.

            The sliver of sound slid down his spine, Bucky’s cock which had been completely forgotten in his instinctive fear jerked in demand at the sound. Steve surely wasn’t … breath held, it shuddered out of Bucky in a rush when he heard the ensuing groans issuing from those plush lips Bucky could picture all too perfectly. Jesus.

            Body trembling with fine vibrations as he braced himself upon the understand strength of the door, Bucky’s nostrils flared, lungs searching for the scent he’d only just tasted an hour ago. Instantly he was biting back his own moan at the richer, sharper scent that flooded his sense. Curling his hands into a fist, Bucky swallowed hard, pushed back from the door, away from what his dick insisted was an invitation that he could not possibly ignore. _His Omega needed him_.

            Leashing the renewed desire to break down the door that surged through him stronger than ever, Bucky took one measured step back. Another. He wanted Steve so badly it was literal pain, the Alpha inside of him clawing, demanding he take care of his Omega the way he was _meant_ to do. Yet Steve had not invited him in. He had not asked for the pleasure and relief Bucky was desperate to provide. He was not truly Bucky’s yet to care for. And while Bucky would use any method of seduction at his disposal, he would never take what was not freely given. The very idea of it anathema to every part of him.

            Gritting his teeth, jaw clenching painfully at the agony which now came from walking with the demanding throb of his incredibly hard cock, Bucky made it to the bathroom, turning the lock in a desperate bit to keep himself _in_ rather than keep Steve out. While he might not yet lose himself in the bliss of Steve’s body, he’d find no rest until he’d found relief at his own hands. Bucky accepted that his shower was going to be significantly longer than he’d originally anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next - the welcome home party where every single one of their friends realize Steve and Bucky are idiots who need to get their act together. XD
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this story thus far! I'm having way too much fun with these clueless boys, and have many more shenanigans up my sleeve for them. Still not sure how many chapters this fic will end up being, but know that we're not yet half way through :)


	7. Chapter 7

“Bucky!” The sound could only be described as a squeal, despite the fact the person responsible for it would never admit to making such an undignified noise. Stumbling back as a whirl of lithe limbs and red hair came at him, Bucky laughed in glee as Natasha Romanova, also known as his second best friend – mostly because he wasn’t hopelessly in love with her – leapt straight into his arms, legs wrapped effortlessly around his waist.

            “Nat!” he squealed back with matching enthusiasm, snorting harder with laughter when she pulled back enough to thump him on the side of the head. Even so, her smile was bright enough to light the sun – just one of the many things she shared with Steve.

            “You’re finally back! About time, you loser. How dare you run away to Russia for decades.” A mock scowl turning her gorgeously delicate features into something that had stronger men running in fear, Bucky wrapped his arms around her slender waist as he grinned back in reply.

            “Three years. And I missed you too.”

            Eyes warming, Nat made to respond when a deep voice cut in. “Hey, Barnes, stop making time with my Omega and get your own.” The pair of them looking over as one, Natasha hoped down nimbly and looped her arms around the sandy blond man’s waist, the expression of adoration on her face naked and enchanting in its honesty.

            “Come on sweetie, you know the only Alpha I have eyes for is you,” Natasha beamed up at her bond mate, as he wrapped a protective arm around her slender shoulders.

            “Clint, man. So good to see you. And to see that you’ve finally gotten Nat here to give you a second look.”

            Beaming as he reached out to pull Bucky into a back slapping hug, Clint let out a little chuckle. “Yeah I just had to promise to be her slave for all eternity. Pretty good deal,” Clint joked, even as Nat used a lethal elbow to jab his ribs. “Aw, pain, no,” Clint whined.

            “Whatever, I always knew you were mine. Took you long enough to figure it out,” Nat replied. Watching the two together, Nat with her smell of fire and heated steel, Clint all cedar and calm water, the scents of them perfectly intertwined, Bucky felt a wave of sheer contentment roll through him. They were precisely who they were meant to be.

            Natasha, who had been friends with Bucky since kindergarten, had tested early as an Omega. It was something that had shocked young Steve, who had been certain she’d be revealed as an Alpha. Privately, Bucky had expected the same of his strong, powerful, confident friend. Yet Natasha had taken pride at her designation, and never once weakened herself for any of the countless obnoxious Alpha’s who expected a submissive Omega.

            She never apologized for being herself, and Bucky had loved her for it. Loved the inspiration she’d provided for Steve, who had struggled with balancing what he assumed was the expectations of his designation, and the fist flying temper that had him fighting the injustices of the world, one by one. Buck had been thrilled when she’d called him a year ago to tell him she’d bonded with their mutual friend at last. Clint adored Natasha the way she deserved, and seeing it, Bucky felt a stab of longing to be able to do the same. With Steve.  

            Casting a glance over at the blond, who was deep in conversation with Sam, he felt a tug inside him, deep inside his chest. _Soon_ , he prayed. Soon he and Steve might be what he’d always hoped they could be. Yet for now, in Steve’s gorgeous apartment as his friends showed up for his welcome home party, with the scent of Steve, happy and safe, curling through the air, Bucky didn’t want anything more.

            Grabbing a couple beers from the fridge, Bucky handed them to his friends. “So, what’s the juicy gossip these days?” he questioned with a smile, sipping from his own drink as laughter and conversation flowed through the air.

            “Please, nothing new here. But you, getting the position with Stark Industries. Starting Monday, right? Now that’s amazing.” Nodding, Bucky clinked his bottle with Clint’s when the man held it out in a cheers.

            Natasha rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Bucky is an engineering genius who will be taking over the world with Tony Stark’s evil yet philanthropic company-”

            “Stark may be an egotistical maniac, but I’m pretty sure he’s not evil,” Bucky interjected. Was completely ignored.

            “But what we _care_ about is you and Steve! Finally together!” Natasha exclaimed. Unable to help himself, Bucky cast Steve another gaze, the tug inside his chest strengthening when Steve met it and smiled warmly.

            “About damn time. And thanks, by the way, for warning me about, you know, _that_ ,” Bucky ended in a hiss as he waved discretely at Steve’s Greek god sculpture worthy body. Clint and Natasha’s twin smirks would be charming if they weren’t infuriating.

            “What, and deprive you the joy of discovering that Stevie had certainly been eating his Wheaties while you were gone? I don’t think so,” Clint rejoined.

            “So, how did you do it? Ask him to bond with you? You _have_ to tell us everything,” Natasha insisted, squirming in anticipation of the story she’d been waiting for, for literally forever.

            Bucky’s eyes went wide as he inhaled a swallow of beer, and sputtered and coughed it back out. Natasha watching with a narrowed gaze, Clint with an amused expression. “Nice spit take man,” he drawled, taking a calm sip of his own beer.

            When he finally remastered the task of breathing, Bucky swiped the back of his hand over his mouth, and then demanded in a yelling whisper, all too aware of the number of ears nearby, “What makes you think we’re bonded?”

            “Gee, I don’t know. The fact you smell like Steve-”

            “I’m literally living in his apartment,” Bucky insisted. Was summarily disregarded once more.

            “And he is practically drowning in possessive, Back The Fuck Off Alpha scent. Your scent,” she continued, her voice taking on an edge. At that, Bucky flushed guiltily. Yes, Steve certainly did. Because Bucky’s Use His Scent To His Best Advantage Plan had been enacted earlier that morning. When Steve had been in the shower, Bucky had snuck into the blond’s room, taking his own moaning sniff of the shirt Steve had laid out, before rubbing it against his face, his neck, wishing the soft fabric was Steve’s even softer skin. Only once he was satisfied the garment was thoroughly scent marked did he snag another shirt from Steve’s closet to sleep in overnight, before creeping back into his own room.

            To his immense satisfaction, he’d caught Steve more than once during the day closing his eyes, breathing deep, pupils visibly larger when he lifted thick lashes once more. Clearly Steve was catching the scent Bucky had so deviously wrapped him in, though obviously not realizing the brunet had planted it like a seduction land mine, stealthy and secretively. To Bucky’s immense relief. That would have been embarrassing as hell. Not to mention impossible to explain. As he was struggling to do now.

            “Uhhh…” he stalled.

            “James Buchanan Barnes,” Natasha spoke each word as sharply a poison tipped dagger.

            “…Yes?” He nearly whimpered, grateful he had his affairs in order. Because he saw certain death in his tiny friend’s eyes.

            “Have you, or have you not, told Steven that you have been ridiculously, helplessly, _stupidly_ in love with him since you were eight?”

            “Ahhh… No,” Bucky admitted, shame faced.

            “Aw, Bucky, no,” Clint sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

            “But I am going to!” Bucky added a bit desperately. Because he was. He unquestionably was, once he was _sure_ Steve could be receptive to such dramatic declarations.

            Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering pithy Russian words the type of which Bucky had rarely heard, yet frequently seen scrawled in graffiti on alley walls in Moscow. Before she pinned Bucky in place with sharp green eyes once more.

            “Bucky. I sat by while you decided, like a complete idiot, you had to prove yourself to Steve, who you may not have noticed is crazy about you too. I didn’t say a word when you went halfway around the freaking world to do that. I thought you’d finally accomplished what you stupidly decided you had to, once you got the Stark position. But now that you’ve done all of that, and STILL haven’t bonded Steve, my patience is at an end. Bite that damn boy, and put us all out of our misery! Before I have to take matters into my own hands. And murder you.”

            Clint nodded, face one of reluctant sympathy. “She will totally murder you.”

            Bucky gulped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky isn't the only one to have friends with strong opinions. Stay tuned for the next chapter. Thank you as always my lovely readers for following this story! All the love to you.


	8. Chapter 8

“Wait... So that's Bucky??”  Maria demanded, unabashed fascination in her voice.  “Damn.  Now I get why you waited three years for this guy.”

            “What?  No - I mean - I wasn't - I didn't-” Steve sputtered out.

            “He did,” Sam cut Steve off calmly as he took another sip of his drink.

            Maria gave Steve a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.  “Don't worry, I'd probably wait three years for that hottie too.”

            “Hey!”

            At Sam's offended scowl, the graceful, slender brunette smiled as she leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.  “You know I'd wait five years for you, darling.”

            Sam seemed to consider that before accepting the appeasement with a gracious nod, looking slightly modified.  “I'll accept that.”

            Sam and his beautiful Beta girlfriend, who Steve had met a handful of times before, were out on the patio with Steve, grabbing some fresh air - and apparently the chance to embarrass Steve.  But since they'd at least waited until they were away from listening ears, Steve supposed he couldn't be too disgruntled by the fact.

            It was actually Bucky who'd suggested to Steve that morning that he invite the gallery owner.  There had been some ambiguous remark about owing the man a drink which had left Steve slightly confused, but regardless he was pleased to see Bucky and Sam had got on so quickly.  Just more proof, his hopeful heart whispered, that Bucky fit perfectly back into his life.

            “The point is,” Maria continued, fervor for the subject unabated. “Now that he's finally back, what are you going to do about it?”

            “Do?” Steve echoed back rather foolishly.

            “Yeah, do.  Like seduce him with home cooked meals.  Tackle him while naked.  You know - do.” Sam nodded along in agreement with Maria, the two so in sync Steve felt a small jolt of envy.  But it was quickly buried beneath an profusion of surprise, hope, and the inevitable ache that came with knowing that were he ever bold - or just flat out crazy- enough to try anything along those lines, he'd be setting himself up for disappointment and heartbreak. 

            Sighing, Steve leaned against the patio railing.  “Guys, Bucky doesn't... see me that way.  Never has.  So I'm not willing to ruin our friendship pushing for something I can't have.”

            Sam and Maria looked at one another, holding a silent conversation before Sam took point.  “Steve, buddy.  I hate to argue with you but Bucky has been practically fucking you with his gaze all night - in like the most sickeningly sweet, adoring way ever.  It's kind of gross actually.  Home boy definitely sees you that way.”

            As one, the trio turned to glance at Bucky, who was currently trapped in a headlock, receiving a lovingly violent noogie from their high school friend Thor, the most recent arrival to the party.  Yet unerringly Bucky looked up, his grimace of resigned acceptance turning into a gorgeously warm smile as he caught Steve's glance.  And just maybe, Steve's heart suggested, there was something more in that gaze.

            “Not to mention, he's definitely covered you inside serious hands off vibes.  If I were a single Alpha, I'd be keeping my distance,” Maria added helpfully.

            Unable to look away as Bucky proceeded to get in a slap fight when Thor started tugging on Bucky’s hair while gesturing at his own long blond tresses - the insult clear even if Steve couldn't hear it - Steve felt the first crack in his protective shell form.

            He didn't know that he could believe his friends assessments.  After all, Bucky could have anyone.  And if the anyone he wanted was _Steve_ , why hadn't he said anything prior? But... But it wouldn't hurt for Steve to carefully try and see if there was any truth in what his friends said with such conviction.  Start doing small things, the kinds of caring things Omegas took pleasure in doing for their Alphas.  While tackling Bucky naked was certainly not part of the plan (baby steps Rogers, baby steps) Steve had been dreaming of the ways he wanted to take care of Bucky for years.  Now did seem like an excellent time to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well well... now these boys will BOTH be trying to seduce each other. They're bound to succeed... right? ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy fluff McFluffins.

“So this way, the merging of the interfaces will be seamless-”

            “I’m so sorry to interrupt, Mr. Stark, Mr. Barnes.” Tony’s assistant – or at least one of them, Bucky had already met seven today, and Christ knew how many more the man had – looked utterly apologetic as she peeked into the room where the two men sat, various robotic components scattered around them. “But, ah, Mr. Barnes has a visitor. I thought you ought to know.”

            Nonplused, the pair watched as she quickly scurried away, clearly relieved to have delivered her message, and quite desperate to make her retreat. Which only had Bucky more curious just what Tony did to his poor assistants to have them all balancing on the edge of worshipful awe, and abject terror. Turning to look at each other, Bucky’s expression was curious, though he worked hard to keep the judgement from showing. He must have failed because Tony rolled his eyes. “No, I didn’t send any of my experimental, and potentially malfunctioning robotic prototypes after her.” Well, Bucky supposed, that was somewhat reassuring – “I think that was Greg. Or Bonnie. Maybe both?” Or not.

            Tony stared off, looking thoughtful as he considered the torture of his assistants, before shrugging and pinning Bucky with his piercing, and all too perceptive dark eyes. “But on to more important news, who’s visiting Buckaroo on his first day of work?” Just barely managing to restrain the eye roll at the new, and entirely unsolicited nickname, though he was pretty sure the slight eye twitch gave him away, Bucky shook his head.

            “I have no idea.” He definitely wasn’t expecting anyone, and most certainly not on his first day. Yet given that today had blown all of his expectations out of the water, he supposed nothing should surprise him.

            Arriving at Stark Tower bright and early, because no way was he going to let the typical snarls of New York traffic cause him to be late for his very first day, Bucky had been more than a little nervous to start such an important position. The following security scan, and accompanying pat down by a stern security head incongruously named Happy – who Bucky now felt was on third date basis with him, despite not having paid for a single dinner – had only increased the feeling to something akin to anxiety. Damn, the man had been _thorough_.

            Leaving the security office, sensation similar to any time Bucky left his annual doctor’s visit – vaguely violated, and more distrusting of the world than he’d been thirty minutes before – Bucky had been downright grateful by the calm, competent, and _friendly_ administrator who met him - “Call me Darcy” - and provided him with his work badge. At which point, she’d given him a brief tour of the floor where a majority of his work would take place. Then ushered him to his own work space.

            Bucky had been expecting a desk. A portioned off corner of a lab if he was really lucky. What he had _not_ anticipated was being led into a massive room, positively packed with research and development equipment that had him hard pressed to hold back a whimper of desire. And the _last_ thing he could have foreseen was to be led straight over to the man and myth behind Stark Industries itself, calmly sitting on the ground amid the internal parts of what looked like… a vacuum cleaner?

            “Bucky! Can I call you Bucky? Mr. Barnes is so formal. Yeah. Bucky it is. So Buckamigo, pull up some ground, let’s get started!” Not knowing what else to do, Bucky had sat.

            Five hours later, every impression he’d ever had of the famous genius inventor, every word Bucky had ever heard spoken of him, was confirmed to be true. Stark was incredible, intuitive, incisive, and a complete lunatic. When Bucky finally managed to ask why he was already deep in conversation with the company owner over the feasibility of heart beat powered mechanical prosthetics, rather than hidden away in a tiny cubicle for at least the next three years, Tony had twirled a wrench as he stared at Bucky with unexpectedly serious eyes.

            “Life can be pretty shitty. A lot of bad things happen to people. If we can create something that makes life less shitty, then we should. And I personally vetted your application process. Everything I’ve read about you tells me you’ve got the mind and drive to do just that. You can’t help people in a cube. So you and me? We’re going to work together to make life less shitty.”

            Bucky was pretty much in love. Platonically of course. But still.

            “Well then, let’s not keep your mystery visitor waiting!” Tony exclaimed, bouncing to his feet with what Bucky felt was an inappropriate excess of energy, considering they had been so deeply involved in engineering discussion they hadn’t paused for a coffee break once, and bounded towards the door, Bucky following close behind. He _was_ curious after all.

            Tony threw the door open, blinking at the gorgeous blond who started in surprise and then flushed prettily. “Okay, it’s _got_ to be my birthday or something.”

            Ignoring his boss, because really, genius or no, nothing could compete with the vision standing before him, Bucky blinked in shock. “Stevie?”

            “Hey Bucky. I’m sorry to interrupt, I should have texted you or-”

            “No, no, not at all!” Tony cut in jovially, moving to lay a hand on Steve’s elbow before he saw the completely non-deferential look Bucky sliced his way, and reconsidered, offering his hand for a polite shake instead.

            “Tony Stark. Pleasure to meet you. And you are?”

            “I know. I mean, uh, Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you, sir.” Steve managed, clearly as flummoxed to be meeting the celebrity as Bucky had been several hours earlier. But in the last several hours, Bucky had also seen the celebrity accidentally smack himself in the face with a hammer, so a bit of that sheen had evaporated. Besides, no one else could possibly command his attention when Steve was near.

            “Stevie!” Bucky repeated as his shock made way for sheer pleasure, completely ignoring the way Tony mouthed “Stevie?” out of sight of the blond, a huge grin spreading across his face. “What are you doing here?”

            Steve cast Tony a look, the shorter man watching the exchange with the fascinated absorption of someone engrossed in a fantastic show. Before Steve seemed to share Bucky’s tactic of ignoring the man altogether, and smiled at Bucky, that warm beautiful smile that as always made Bucky’s heart skip a beat. “You mentioned this morning that you were just going to grab something nearby for lunch. And I thought, well, you should have something better than fast food. So I, uh, made you lunch instead.”

            “You made me lunch?” Bucky repeated, heart stopping completely at the idea, as Steve rolled his own eyes and grinned. Steve held out the carefully packed thermal bag until Bucky forced useless hands to reach out and grab it, clutching it as though it were the most precious of jewels, then blinked at Steve some more. “And brought it all the way out here to me.”

            “It’s no big deal,” Steve insisted, with a shy little shrug, while Bucky reeled at the gesture that was such an wonderfully Omega thing to do, but typically only with _their_ Alpha. The Omega drive to feed and take care of in beautifully domestic sorts of ways was every bit as strong as the Alpha need to provide and protect. As his best friend, Steve had done small things of that nature for Bucky before, but this blatant display of care – he was dazzled by it.

            “Well, I’ll let you get back to it, don’t want to keep you. Have a good day, I’ll see you tonight.” Steve’s easy, careless words somehow held the weight of a promise. Then Steve pulled Bucky into a hug, effortlessly managing to avoid the bag Bucky still gripped, and for the briefest of moment, tucked his face into Bucky’s neck. Soft skin left the impression of warmth and sugar sweet scent, before Steve pulled away. “Nice to meet you, sir,” he waved at Stark, before politely closing the door behind him.

            Staring down at the lunch, smelling the delicious aromas of his favorite food beneath the overlying scent of _Steve_ , Bucky finally looked up when Tony elbowed him, the grin stretching across his face far too pleased to be legal. “Only one question, Buckarino. Where in the world did you find him, and how do I get one?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno, Steve might be better at this than Bucky ;)


	10. Chapter 10

Breath catching, Steve lifted the paint that had been half hidden beneath a pile of art supplies strewn across his desk with reverent hands. It had been so effectively camouflaged, he could have missed seeing it for weeks more. He wondered how long already it had been concealed among the happy chaos that was the small bedroom he’d turned into his art studio. Yet despite the apparently careless way it had been buried among the scatter of pencils, loose sketches, beloved paint brushes and charcoals, Steve knew there was nothing thoughtless about the way it had been placed.

            Cupping the extravagantly expensive paint in awed fingers, Steve stared down at the completely unexpected, and entirely amazing gift, the lingering scent of wood smoke and chocolate leaving no doubt who had left it. It was scent that filled in his lungs all the time. Not only at home, where Bucky’s delicious aroma had infused every inch of space, but inexplicably even when Steve was out and about. He’d catch a whiff of the sexy male at the most unexpected times and places, until it felt as though Bucky’s presence was curling adoringly around him. As though Bucky had soaked into his very cells. A mystery Steve could not solve, yet was silently grateful for, after years without that perfect scent.

            “Bucky,” he whispered, shaking his head in awe. It amazed him, and humbled him, that Bucky had remembered. The two of them had been teenagers, tanned and freckled and happy with carefree youth, Steve’s nose pressed to the front window of the art supply store. He’d stared at the paint with the lustful longing most people used when staring at a displays of chocolates and candies.

            “That good stuff?” Bucky had asked, scratching the back of his neck before tossing a lanky arm around Steve’s narrow shoulders. Despite the summer heat, Steve had loved it, the casual gesture one he pretended in his heart was a possessive display. Even so, he rolled his eyes, jabbed a bony elbow in Bucky’s side. Charmed unreasonable by Bucky’s pained yelp, then the innocent expression that would fool no on those gorgeously sculpted lips, Steve managed to hold onto his superior scowl.

            “Only the _best_ , you cretin,” Steve scoffed, heart melting at Bucky’s loud, unabashed laughter.

            “Hey, I know plenty of stuff, just not artsy stuff. But if it’s the best, then you should have it!”

            Steve had sighed, even as he smiled at Bucky’s staunch support, the man encouraging him since the early days of stick figure drawings and Crayola compositions. “Yeah, not at that price.” Steering his friend on, towards home and the AC that awaited them, he missed the way Bucky tossed a furrowed brow look over his shoulder at the display once more.

            “Well, some day when you’re a fancy important famous artist, you’ll have that,” Bucky said with all the firm certainty of youth.

            Grinning at the vision of the future that he could hardly imagine, Steve looked up at Bucky, met those beautiful eyes that held nothing but faith in him. “Yeah Buck. Some day.”

            Yet Steve never had. Even once his art had gained notoriety, the sheer extravagance of the product had kept him from ever purchasing it. But Bucky had remembered...

            Biting his lip hard, Steve felt everything within him warming, the flame of hope that had been kindled at the party only growing brighter. The last few weeks had been incredible. The gesture of taking Bucky lunch which he’d agonized over, second-guessed, debated back and forth for hours before manning up and simply _doing_ it, had been received better than he could ever have imagined. The dazed, dazzled look on Bucky’s face had been the best possible response Steve could have hoped for.

            Or so he’d though, until Bucky had shown up at home that evening, boxes of take-out from Steve’s very favorite restaurant in hand, and had pulled Steve away from his sketching to cuddle up against one another on the couch. Their feet tangled together on the coffee table as they watched old terrible episodes of Star Trek, laughing and talking and curling up together in a way that made everything inside Steve hurt in the very best way.

            When he’d woken up early enough to see Bucky off at the door the next morning, shyly handing over a packed lunch bag once more, Steve had worried Bucky had seen right through his silly and awkward attempts to take care of the brunet, when Bucky had stared down at the bag again, a complicated ripple of emotions shifting over his face. Yet before Steve could agonize for more than an instant, Bucky had clasped him by the back of the neck – and Jesus, that had nearly made Steve melt embarrassingly into a puddle of sheer want – tugged him in for a tight hug, the slight scrap of facial hair grazing over the delicate skin of Steve’s neck. Then Bucky had been out the door with a cheery, teasing, “Have a good day, honey!” And Steve had been free at last to slump back against the door, entirely overcome. If all the art he’d produced that day suspiciously resembled a certain sexy roommate, well, no one else needed to know that.

            After that, they’d fallen into a routine so domestic it made every Omega part of Steve shimmer in delight. Steve made a lunch for Bucky each day. Bucky in return treated Steve to each and every restaurant he loved, or had even mentioned wanting to try. When Steve had finally protested that they’d both turn into big ol’ potatoes if they kept eating out, and that he was making the a home-cooked meal, Bucky had laughingly accompanied him to the store. And then blatantly shouted down Steve’s attempt to pay for the groceries.

            “Come on, Stevie. You’re letting me shack up with you, getting in your hair all the time, throwing off your brooding artistic solitude or whatever. Least I can do.” It made sense. So Steve had given in with a grace that a younger, scrappier Steve could never have managed. But in truth, it had been easy, when part of him was wishing and pretending it was because Bucky was _his_ Alpha. The desire to provide was well known and deeply ingrained in every Alpha, who had taken a mate for their own.

            With each passing day, it was so damn easy to pretend Bucky was his, and he was Bucky’s, it was almost like the brunet knew precisely what Steve craved, and actually _wanted_ to give it to him. The food had been enough to make Steve’s heart throb with the deepest of hope, yet it hadn’t stopped there. He’d sleepily stumbled into his studio one morning, blinking in confusion at the gorgeous bouquet of flowers standing beside his easel, petals lighting up like fire in the early morning sunshine. They were a riot of colors, a profusion of blooms so joyful it had made his breath catch. Then Steve’s breath was stolen away altogether at the card leaning against the vase _._

 _Some Claude Monet guy once said “I must have flowers, always, and always.’ And since he was_ almost _as good an artist as you, I figured that means you definitely needed some too. Hope these provide good company today - Buck_

            Then there was the time Steve had picked up his empty coffee cup one morning, frowning in confusion at the rattle he heard. He’d tipped the mug over, blinking in surprise at the little wrapped chocolates that had poured out. A tiny folded up note proclaimed- _Coffee is bitter. Start your day with something sweet!_

            Best of all had been the ridiculously plush throw that had shown up on the couch. Steve hadn’t thought twice about it, other than to be happy at the tangible sign that Bucky was settling into the apartment, making no apparent plans to leave any time soon. Maybe even making it his own, Steve’s hopeful heart whispered. Yet the morning after a late movie night with too many beers and terrible action flicks, Steve had woken up on the couch, tucked in more carefully and neatly than his own inebriated state could have managed. Almost as though an Alpha had given in to the visceral need to wrap his Omega up in a nest of coziness.

            Setting the paint down gently, Steve ran delicate fingers over it before pulling his hand back, and rubbing it over the ever present ache in his chest. At the beginning of this, he’d barely dared to dream Bucky really might entertain feelings for him. But now… now Steve was ready to stop hoping and _know_. One way or the other, he needed to know. Whether his heart would be broken, and he’d need to fix it the best he could with clumsy hands that could create flowing art yet struggled to drive a nail in the wall or repair a leaky tap. Or whether everything he was pretending was his could actually be.

            Picking up the glossy announcement Sam had sent him for approval, Steve stared thoughtfully at the details of his latest exhibit. He’d intended to ask Bucky to join him the other night, but with the lethal combination of drinks, action films, and fuzzy blankets, it had slipped his mind. Now though – perhaps it was the perfect opportunity. To ask Bucky to be his real date in no uncertain terms. And just maybe discover what it felt like to have Bucky hold him the whole night and _mean_ it.

            The artist in him appreciated the symbolism behind it, how Bucky had re-entered his life immediately prior to the last show. And might now reshape his life in new and beautiful ways after this one.

            Even as fear rose within Steve at the idea that his life might be broken into shards instead if, if, _if_ everything all went wrong, the flickering flame of hope inside him could not be dimmed. The time for the future he’d always dreamed of had come. And whether reaching for it, he crashed into pain or burned with delight, Steve was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky might be better than we've given him credit for ;) Ahead - a long overdo conversation! That does not start, or end, at all the way Steve expected.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter became much longer than expected, so I ended up breaking what I intended to be one chapter into two. This is part one.

Nerves and anticipation a sparking crackle of energy tripping down his spine, Steve bit his lip in deep concentration as he finished setting the table. He’d decided the only appropriate way to express his feelings, and ask Bucky to be his date with his heart on his sleeve, was with the most romantic and caring of atmospheres possible.

            Steve _adored_ that Bucky allowed him to care for him in this most basic of ways - the preparing of a meal, whether it was a lunch packed carefully, or a dinner he prepared while Bucky watched, kept his company, teased him lovingly while nicking bits of ingredients until Steve had to smack his hand away. It felt like the beginning of a lifetime together, and it meant the world to him. Tonight, when Steve would take the step that would change everything, he wanted every detail to be perfect.

            Stepping back, Steve gave an approving nod after skimming his eyes over every element of the tablescape. The slim candles in gleaming candlesticks, the fragrant, joyful arrangement of flowers, the elegance of the white plates on the dark blue tablecloth, every bit of it was precisely as he’d dreamed. Now if only the rest of the night would do the same.

            Nerves a flutter inside of him, anxiety warring with undeniable excitement, Steve ran a hand down the deep blue of his button up, hoping the sleeves rolled up and shirt untucked from dark wash jeans struck the perfect balance between nice yet not too formal. He’d spent an embarrassing amount of time getting his hair styled just right, the effortless, slightly messy look anything but. It was far more attention that Steve generally paid his own appearance, when deep inside he still felt so uncertain of himself, but when telling the love of your life that, oh, guess what, they _are_ in fact the love of your life, he felt it was only appropriate to put some extra effort in.

            Yet as he moved to the kitchen, to baby the sauce simmering on the stove, he knew that’s where the most important component of his confession and if he was _very_ lucky, seduction, resided. The food. Steve had been delighted in the last few weeks to discover Bucky’s favorites remained the same, though it was fun to expose Bucky to new recipes, and get his enthusiastic response to each one. Steve might have thought Bucky was just being polite when the brunet insisted he loved every one, but considering Bucky consistently ate until he rolled around on the couch, moaning over his irreparable greed and gluttony, Steve was inclined to believe Bucky was just incredibly easy to please. And oh, how Steve wanted to please him.

            Even as he thought it, Steve gasped at the jolt that ran down his spine, nearly sending him to his knees. But this one had nothing to do with nerves or excitement. It was purely primal, pure _pain_. And every other emotion evaporated as Steve plunged blindly into shock and fear.

            Steve had felt the edge of his heat licking at him, delicately and gently, the entirely of the day. Yet, on the mild suppressant he’d been taking since puberty, he’d thought nothing of it. Mild, because among all the other maladies and side effects being so sickly had forced upon him, Steve had never once experienced a heat of typical magnitude.

            Steve had read all about them prior to being officially designated, had been taught in school and prepared himself for the inevitable side effects of being an Omega. Of the largest characteristic that _made_ an Omega. But when his first heat had engulfed him, he’d been first shocked, then devastated to discover it was only a faint shadow of what it should be. It had been one more blow, one more confirmation that when it came to being an Omega, a potential mate to an Alpha – to _Bucky_ \- he didn’t measure up.

            It had been crushing, a shortcoming that Steve had grieved to no end. Yet as years had passed, he’d come to accept it, and appreciate the silver lining that he was functional with the mildest of suppressants, unlike many of his friends who could not leave their home for days on end. While businesses were now by law required to provide paid heat leave for Omegas, Steve had tried to find appreciation for the fact he’d never missed a day of work for biological reasons. For artistic fits of frustration – sure. For moping around, missing his best friend – far too many times to admit. But he’d at last made peace with his defect.

            Recently, Steve had even been unexpectedly grateful for it. Without the overwhelming scent Omegas released at the time of their heat, he’d been able to offer Bucky a place to live, free of any fear pheromones would put them in the most untenable of positions. Not that he didn’t want Bucky to go completely feral Alpha and just take him _over_. But the idea of Bucky forced into actions he’d later regret, or worse, abhor, by nothing more than animalistic instinct left ice in Steve’s veins. Steve wanted Bucky to want _him._

            Gasp turning into a gritted moan as a full body _throb_ trembled through him, Steve’s iron grip on the edge of the counter failed as he went down to the ground. Sweat beaded along his skin, teeth clenching in agony as need clawed through him with a vicious strength he’d never before known. Groaning, Steve let his head drop, kneeling as shaking hands barely kept him from collapsing full out on the floor. “Fuck,” he whimpered, as the sensation of his clothes against his skin abruptly became too much – abrasive, irritating and suffocating. Breathing deep in an attempt to center himself, to simply _think_ , Steve whined as the action only drew the scent of Bucky deeper into his lungs. The aroma that was distracting at the best of times was now completely intoxicating to his raw nerves.

            The only thought that managed to pierce the haze of desire so deep it was hurt was Bucky. Bucky would be here soon. And Steve, God, Steve who had invited him into his home, hoping deep down that Bucky might never leave, would be chasing him away. But _why_? He’d never once had a full blown heat, not even once he’d grown, regained his health, left the plaguing illnesses of his youth behind. _But_ , spoke the small fraction of his mind still fighting to keep him from turning into nothing more than a vibrating mass of demanding want, _I’ve never been healthy and in heat with Bucky near_. Bucky, the only Alpha his soul had ever recognized.

            Swearing as he managed to reach up and turn off the stove, because Christ the last thing he needed was a fire when he was already burning, Steve tried to crawl towards his room. He froze as the barest brush of carpet beneath this fingertips, the glide of fabric over flushed skin had slick practically pouring from him, his already achingly hard cock leaking ridiculously. Head hanging in defeat, he could only swear once more as the heard the lock of the front door click. Right on time, Bucky was home.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? The next chapter the next day?? Just for you, you lovely reader, you ;)

Where he’d been expecting nerves, Bucky felt oddly settled. He’d known this moment was coming for weeks. For years, truly. Decades even, if it could be believed he’d known Steve was his the moment they’d met. Bucky believed it, with every beat of his heart.

            For days now, he’d _known_. That the time had come to offer Steve everything he was, everything he had, and hope that just maybe, it would be enough. Tonight, he was ready. Breathing deep, Bucky carefully smoothed over his hair, before sliding the key into the door, letting himself into the apartment he hoped he could soon call home.

            Pausing immediately inside the door, his eyes widened at the table spread before him, candle light flickering, illuminating a scene that was pure romance. That ever present ache in his chest turned into a burning lance of pleasure. He’d _hoped_ these past few weeks Steve - wonderful, amazing, beautiful Steve - had in his own sweet way been returning Bucky’s feelings. Each gesture, from the little doodles Steve had snuck into the lunches he’d packed, to trustingly falling asleep curled up into Bucky’s side on the couch, had only helped that hope grow. This though, seemed so _clear_ – leaving no room for doubt about where Steve stood. He hoped, he hoped, he hoped.

            “Steve?” Bucky called out, awe and hope turning into _belief,_ a gorgeous tangle inside of him. Until he caught sight of Steve kneeling upon the ground, agony etched into every feature. And _no_ , no no no, he could not loose Steve now, what was wrong, where was he hurt, Bucky hadn’t been here, he hadn’t come soon enough, he had to fix this, fix it, fix it. Even as he stumbled forward in shock and horror and fear, the next instant brought Bucky to his own knees, physically knocked back by both the scent, and the sound of Steve’s voice.

            “Buck-” just his name, which Bucky _adored_ hearing from those lips, any way that Steve said it. Each time that mouth curved air into sound, bringing life to Bucky’s name, it was a gift he’d cherished thousands of times over. But this time it sounded like pure torture, unlike anything Bucky had ever heard, even at Steve’s most dangerously ill. Steve’s scent, in counterpoint, was sheer ecstasy. The natural sweetness that left Bucky reeling had transformed into something stronger, deeper, darker, and fuck Bucky wanted to _lose_ himself in it.

            “Steve?” he choked out, shock and sheer confusion holding him frozen, feet away from Steve, hand stretched towards yet not touching the blond who’d flinched back at the instinctive gesture of comfort. The tiny motion sent a razor sharp blade of ice through Bucky’s heart. “Steve, what’s wrong?”

            “I’m sorry,” Steve sobbed, tears pouring from eyes clenched tight. And his _voice_ , that deep timbre that was a caress over Bucky’s skin resonated deeper than ever. “I’m sorry, you have to go, and it’s my fault.”

            The devastation Bucky felt at the words was immediate, the pain all encompassing, but he set aside his own agony as irrelevant. Nothing else mattered when Steve was so clearly hurting, and nothing in heaven or on earth could force Bucky from his side. “Steve, what _happened_?” Bucky demanded, the growl of protective Alpha vibrating through his throat, gaze rushing over Steve’s hunched body the way his hands were desperate to do.

            Wide, frantic eyes took in the sweat that had dampened Steve’s sunshine bright hair to a darker gold, the way that body which was nothing but strength _trembled_. Abruptly Bucky felt a knowing settling inside of himself, as the voice in his head demanded he surge forward, hold Steve, take care, take care, take care of Steve. “Stevie,” he whispered in stunned understanding, lashes fluttering shut, lungs breathing deeper when at the sound of Bucky’s voice, Steve’s body released another potent rush of scent.

            “I didn’t, my heat - it’s never been this bad. But now-” a bitten off swear as Steve’s body swayed, barely managing to hold himself upright. “Now you can’t be here because of me, I’m so sorry Bucky, I’d leave but I – I don’t think I can move,” Steve gasped out, teeth gritting as a strong wave washed through his body. “I’m so sorry.”

            “Steve-” Bucky exclaimed, aghast. At the obvious and overwhelming physical effect the heat was having on Steve. But more at the inexplicable apologies Steve was offering. “Don’t – _you_ don’t have to go anywhere, and I’m not leaving you,” he promised, the Alpha in him allowing for nothing else.

            Despite the vicious level of strength it took back to restrain that same primal part of himself which read Steve’s scent, the mouthwatering aroma of slick and arousal thick in the air, as invitation and demanded that he take, take, take, Bucky shoved it back. Fuck he wanted Steve, every cell of his body responding, tightening with the blinding need to shove Steve down and _claim_ him. But Steve, his Steve, had flinched back from his touch, and told him to go. Steve didn’t want this. The idea of _forcing_ himself upon Steve had the ice lancing through Bucky spreading, frozen shard slicing through his veins.

            Seemingly deaf to his words, Steve shuddered, back arching before falling once more. “All my fault, I’m so sorry, I fucked everything up,” he rambled, voice tight and wounded as his fingers clenched in the carpet. “Not good enough for you,” Steve slurred, before his words were smothered by needy whimpers.

            The shock Steve’s state had plunged Bucky into shifted into sheer disbelief, every part of him rejecting Steve’s statement. “Not good enough for me?” Bucky repeated, aghast, even as the primal part of himself read the meaning beneath it, that Steve _wanted_ to be good enough for him and shuddered in ecstatic delight. “Steve, no, Jesus, you are so good, you’re amazing, you’re perfect, fuck you have to know that.”

            Even as Steve inhaled sharply, body instinctively swaying closer to Bucky at the verbal caress, he was at last opening his eyes, staring at Bucky with a gaze clouded in heat induced need, and confusion. And fuck, the sight of those dazed eyes with pupils blown wide until only the thinnest rim of ocean blue remained, had the Alpha in him lunging forward, struggling to take control.

            Perhaps Steve didn’t mean it in the way every part of Bucky prayed he did, but Bucky could not let Steve think he was not good enough for anyone or _anything_. The very idea was a violent insult to the heart of Bucky who adored Steve above all others. And so, although this was by no means the way he’d meant to pour his heart at Steve’s feet, nothing mattered more than mending the horribly wrong image of himself Steve held. Bucky had to fix this.

            “Steve. You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. And I’ve been in love with you, since, Christ, the moment I met you. That feeling has only gone stronger every day spent with you. That’s why I went to Russia, Steve. So that I could get the best opportunities possible – for you. So I could offer you anything you could ever want, and just hope it might be enough. I love you more than anything. God, everything about you. Your heart and your laugh, and the way you snort when I tell horrible jokes. The way you fit against me, the way you care about everyone, the incredible art you make. _Everything_. And even if-” a hitch in Bucky’s breathing, the lance of ice spreading further. “Even if you don’t share those feelings, you have to know. You are worth _everything_. The world can only strive to be good enough for you.”

            Shock had spread through those dark eyes with each word spoken, Steve’s mouth parting soundlessly. Before another violent convulsion jerked down his spine, head dropping forward. “Bucky,” Steve bit out, voice nearly inaudible. Yet his next word resonated so deeply in Bucky, he knew for so long as he lived, he would never forget this moment. “Alpha.” It was an acknowledgement and a plea in one.

            Strength at his end, Bucky was helpless to stop the way he instinctively lunged forward, and tugged Steve into his arms, the blond slumping against him as Bucky held him effortlessly, arms wrapped adoringly around that ridiculously slender waist. Even so, Bucky asked, voice raw with warring need and uncertainty, “Is this okay? I don’t need anything, I’m not asking for anything, I promise, I just want to help you.”

            The shudder that ran through the blond seemed to be one of relief, as he moaned slightly and buried his face in Bucky’s neck, hands clutching at the front of Bucky’s shirt. The nod was slight, yet Bucky felt it, and clutched Steve tighter in relief. That was all, he vowed internally. He would take nothing from Steve, demand nothing of him. But to be able to hold Steve, and provide the slightest measure of relief, it was a gift.

            “Bucky. You… you love me?” Steve managed to get out between helpless whines. And there was no stopping the crashing wave of emotions Bucky had been holding back a lifetime.

            “Stevie,” he crooned, nuzzling into Steve’s hair, stopping just short of pressing a kiss to damp skin. “Steve, I love you so much. I will always love you. And please, can I… can I help you? Get you into bed, get you some water? Then I’ll - I don’t know, I can run to the store? Get some emergency suppressant. Supplies? Or, whatever, anything you need, please, tell me what I can do,” Bucky begged, his voice a rasp.

            He mentally flipped madly through his long ago Alpha training that had prepared him for the eventuality of helping an Omega, _his_ Omega through a heat. It was training Bucky had paid the closest of attention to, until it had become evident Steve didn’t suffer through the expected symptoms. He struggled fervently to recall now, needing to help Steve with every part of his being. Nothing else mattered. Not the hard line of his erection, trapped and aching in his pants. Not the way Steve helplessly writhed against him, rubbing instinctively against every inch of Bucky he could reach. Nothing.

 

 

In Bucky’s arms, Steve was stunned to discover every sharp pang of agony he’d been experiencing morphed, melted, slid into the most pleasurable of delicious sensation. Those impossibly strong arms held him so tightly, yet gently, as though he were the most delicate thing in the world. As though he were as breakable as he used to be. In some ways, Steve thought foggily, perhaps he was. The naked demand of his heat left him vulnerable in ways he’d never once experienced before.

            And yet, nothing could compare to the vulnerability Bucky had shown, in sharing his soul with a profusion of words so beautiful, Steve could hardly comprehend them. Bucky loved him? Bucky, the most incredible, wonderful, sexy, amazing Alpha Steve had ever had the good fortune to know, _loved_ him. Not the mild like Steve had hesitantly begun to hope for since the night of the party. Not the attraction Steve worried he’d only imagined seeing in those storm cloud eyes when he dared to linger in a hug.

            Body writhing, so desperate to close the distance from the very first moment Bucky had walked in the door, surrounding Steve in his scent anew, Steve struggled to think through the consuming want, and hold tight to words he’d dreamed of hearing forever. He could hardly believe it, a deep, instinctive part of him whispering in worry that perhaps it was only the instinctive response of Alpha to Omega, bonded or no. Perhaps Bucky was simply reacting to his heat, and did not mean any of those heartbreakingly beautiful things he said.

            But Bucky had offered to _leave_. To try and help Steve, arms tight around him, all the while not pushing for the more that Steve’s body was so desperate to provide. And Bucky never lied. It was incredible, incomprehensible, but Steve believed. Bucky loved him.

            Food on the stove forgotten, the perfect setting of the table inconsequential, Steve pulled back just enough to look into that face he adored, seeing the concern etched in those features. And he returned Bucky’s gift of vulnerability with his own.

            “Bucky, I love you. I’ve loved you forever. I’ve never wanted you to be more than you are, or… or provide for me,” Steve declared, forcing his heat fogged mind into order. He’d waited a lifetime to say these words, he would not mess up this one thing. “All I want is you. I love you, Bucky. My Alpha.”

            The sounded ripped from Bucky’s throat was raw, pure emotion, and pure joy. One Steve echoed when Bucky clasped one hand firm and unyielding around the back of Steve’s neck, and replied, “My Omega.” Possession, adoration and promise in the words. Not just an acknowledgement of designation, but an unyielding statement of belonging. Steve was _Bucky’s_ Omega. Just as Bucky was Steve’s Alpha, the title in this context one of surrender and demand and love. “I love you Steve,” Bucky whispered fervently.

            Even as Steve was shaping the words to reply, the freedom to speak them aloud at last a bliss he could never have imagined experiencing, Bucky’s mouth was upon his own, hungrily swallowing the sound. Every single remaining thought burned away at the extraordinary sensation. _Yes_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm pretty sure all those tags promised some hot sweaty smut... Stay tuned for the chapter that delivers on that promise. *devilish grin*


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why did this chapter take so long, Lighting???" Well, let me tell you, lovely readers. Because it's four times as long as any other chapter... I don't know what happened... But I don't think anyone will complain. As promised, ALL the smut. Enjoy >:D

If Steve’s scent was heaven, Bucky was quick to discover his mouth was sheer nirvana. Fuck, it was even softer than any of his feverish dreams had ever imagined. The taste, pure intoxication. And Steve’s desperate little moans that Bucky swallowed down – he could survive the rest of his life on those alone.

            Dragging his mouth against those plush lips experimentally, Bucky absorbed the way Steve shuddered in his arms, body going completely limp, gorgeously pliant. He noted the reaction with delight, before licking along the seam of Steve’s mouth, and was eagerly let inside. Tongue stroking deep, his own groan vibrated between them, their breath one as Steve pressed closer yet. Seeking out every flavor, Bucky’s lips led Steve’s in a dance they’d never before performed and yet seemed to _know_. To halves of one beautiful whole.

            A tremor ran through his own body when Steve traded the grip on his shirt for a tight grip in Bucky’s hair instead, Bucky’s head thrown back to gasp in air desperately as everything inside him tightened. In need, in erotic bliss so acute it was nearly pain, and for the first time he thought he might understand the very edge of what Steve was experiencing. Yet even as all-encompassing lust tangling together with an all-consuming love hazed every thought he’d ever held, one remained. More instinct than conscious thought, it was carved into his ribs, the boundaries that guided and guarded his heart. _Take care of Steve_.

            “Baby,” Bucky gasped out as Steve took the opportunity to lick and bite none too playfully at the arch of his neck. And fuck, yes, he wanted that, nothing but that, the rest of his life. Steve’s whine of twining need and pleasure at the nickname spoken with adoration had Bucky’s body coiling tighter yet. But… “Stevie, you gotta tell me what you want here. I don’t want to push you-”

            Just like that, his own words were being smothered by Steve’s mouth upon his once more, the hesitation of their first kiss, evaporated. Now, there was nothing but determination and command in the intimate dance that was a battle, not for dominance but for pleasure, in which there could only be victors. And there he was, the true Stevie Bucky alone had the pleasure to know – all shyness gone, nothing but bravery in Steve as he pulled back once they were both panting for breath, the way their mingled scents merged together lusciously driving them both nearly insane.

            “Bucky, please. Everything, I want everything. With you,” Steve swore, both a demand and a plea, the deep timbre of his voice nearly incomprehensible from the heat staining it. But Bucky understood. And he would tear out his own heart before denying Steve anything.

            In a motion that would have been simpler with Steve’s former physique, yet gave him even more pride in accomplishing it now, Bucky lifted Steve by that absolutely _perfect_ ass, wordlessly encouraging the blond to wrap strong legs around Bucky’s waist, before pushing up to his feet. There was a deep edge of primal satisfaction in knowing Steve was strong enough to take on the weight of the world, yet for Bucky, let himself be carried like the most delicate of gems.

            Delighting in Steve’s gasp of surprise, quickly strangled by a shuddering cry of ecstasy as the motion rubbed the lengths of their cocks against one another, Bucky tightened his grip before carrying the blond towards his room. He blindly bumped into corners and walls, consumed as he was by kissing Steve, who had wrapped around him like the worlds sexiest, cuddliest koala. Steve didn’t seem to mind, using the brief leverage of his back against a wall to arch into Bucky harder, grinding their dicks together in a way that had Bucky mentally shouting a profusion of curses and prayers of thanks to every deity in existence. Fuck, Bucky wanted to take, take, take, precisely where he was, yet even more, he _needed_ Steve in his space.

            Finally stumbling through his bedroom door, he managed to lay Steve down upon the tangle of blankets on his bed, though the full body grip Steve maintained had him going down with the blond. Sinking deeper into the kiss that was wet and deep and filthy and _perfect_ , he at last pulled back with one last nip at Steve’s plush bottom lip, and then simply stared. The sight of Steve in his bed, laying among the sheets, Bucky’s scent merging with the overwhelming aroma of Omega, happy and safe and aroused, was every fantasy come to life.

            “Fuck, I love you so much,” Bucky breathed, not even realizing he spoke the words pouring straight from his heart until Steve let out another lush surge of scent, the aroma of slick so thick in the air Bucky could nearly taste it, and fuck, his mouth was watering. Yet before he could lose himself in what he now _knew_ was invitation, Steve had to know – “Stevie. I want to do everything with you. Everything. But you need to know, I’ve never done, uh, anything, before.”

            Steve’s wide eyed expression of shock, mouth falling open, might have been entertaining, had the Alpha within him not felt the immediate need to defend himself. Yet Bucky held his tongue and his breath, brows furrowing as he waited for a reaction he feared, worried that his Omega might assume an inexperienced Alpha could not satisfy him fully.

            “You – but – why?” Steve demanded, sheer confusion in his expression, and at the question, Bucky felt his own features rearranging into the same look. Nope, of all the reactions he could have expected, this wasn’t one.

            “Because I’ve been waiting for you,” Bucky replied. It was the most obvious statement in the world. Of _course_ his body had always belonged to Steve. There could be no other choice, when the man had always possessed his heart.

            A torrent of emotions flickered over Steve’s face, but above all was a love so obvious it broke Bucky’s heart even as it healed a lifetime of bruises from wanting and waiting. “Me too,” Steve replied, a flush rising beautifully beneath golden skin that had nothing to do with embarrassment.

            Bucky had hoped, but never expected Steve to wait. Not when Bucky had never been brave enough to ask for the promise, and especially not when he knew just how beautiful and desirable the blond was. At those simple words drenched in honesty, a primal satisfaction such as he had never known burned through his veins. _Mine_. As he felt his lips curl into a smirk that was sheer possessive gratification, Bucky leaned in to skim his lips over Steve’s teasingly. “Don’t worry though. I studied the subject of providing my Omega pleasure… extensively.”

            At the statement drenched in promise, Steve groaned, eyes fluttering shut as his body trembled, words failing him as desire fueled by heat consumed him. He arched into the Bucky even as his arms fell to his sides, hands clenching on the sheets in a useless effort to ground himself. This suited Bucky perfectly fine, as he pressed a lingering kiss to Steve’s panting mouth, more than happy to fill the silence. A lifetime of adoration and need was more than ready to pour past his lips. But first things first.

            “Let’s get you out of these clothes, what do you say?” he murmured comfortingly, Steve’s responding groan unquestionably one of agreement. Bucky thanked every star in the sky for his good fortune in at _last_ being able to uncover every square inch of that body. And fuck, it was gorgeous.

            “Christ, baby, you’re so perfect, how did I ever get so lucky? So beautiful,” Bucky praised as he unbuttoned and gently worked the golden Adonis out of his shirt, Steve weakly trying to help. Biting his lip, Bucky let loose his own groan as he carefully unbuttoned jeans stretched obscenely over the hard length of Steve’s dick, before grasping both the pants and the black boxer briefs beneath, and slid them down legs thick with muscle. At last Steve lay completely naked, acres of perfect skin flushed, muscles bunching and shaking, the most incredible thing Bucky had ever seen.

            “Oh Stevie,” Bucky breathed, eyes drinking in the masterpiece that was the love of his life. “Fuck, why you create art when you’re already the most beautiful thing in the world…” at the words, Steve’s cock, thick and long and _gorgeou_ s, and so achingly hard it hovered an inch above the flexing plane of his abdomen, erupted. Bucky watched in staggered amazement as thick ropes of come striped across Steve’s chest, those deliciously defined pecs, a spattered painting across the canvas of his collarbones. Sobbing loudly, Steve threw his head back, hands grasping limply at Bucky’s shirt as pleasure racked through him.

            At that, Bucky’s control snapped. Yet as he ripped off his own clothes, Alpha preening at the way Steve lifted tear stained lashes to watch, cock flexing as another spurt of come leaked from his still mouthwateringly hard dick, Bucky felt more than the need to take, take, take. But rather the need to work his Omega to the point of bliss over and over again until the heat had released Steve from its grasp, leaving the blond exhausted and pleasured beyond words.

            Apprehension, and desperate attempts to remember long ago training classes evaporated, every instinct within Bucky simply _knowing_. Steve was his, and more important of all, Bucky was Steve’s. He was made to give his lover everything the man could need. As he bracketed the blond with possessive limbs after tossing hopelessly shredded clothing aside, their mingled cries of relief ripping through the air at being skin to skin at _last_ , it was pure instinct that had him lapping at the release still warm upon Steve’s skin.

            “Fuck,” Bucky breathed, delighting in the taste that was every bit as sweet as Steve’s scent, with a darker flavor that had him instantly addicted. Greedily, he licked over perfectly sculpted muscle, scraping his teeth possessively over the curve over Steve’s chest. Pausing to lick at one small nipple, Bucky noted with violent gratification the way Steve’s air punched out of him at the gesture. Nipping delicately at the bud before sucking on it, Bucky grinned with pleasure when Steve jolted harder. Learning what drove his beautiful Omega senseless with desire was his new life mission, one he could happily spend all eternity devoting himself to.

            Paying the other nipple the same attention, because it was only fair, Bucky gave it a sharper bite before licking the slight pain away, then continued to map every inch of lust flushed skin with tongue and teeth and lips. While part of him wished he’d had the opportunity to do all this and more back when Steve had been tiny and delicate and equally gorgeous, he was greedily grateful for Steve’s size now, if only because it gave him so much more delightful territory to trace, to touch, to claim.

            Steve was _perfect_. The thought was a loop in his mind, one he breathed again and again as he pressed the words with kisses along Steve’s ribs, over the joint of his shoulder, up to the achingly delicate skin of his neck, and with each repetition it only felt more true. The whimper Steve let out at each verbal caress only spurred Bucky to reiterate himself all over again. At last, having licked up every delicious drop of come, Bucky settled himself more heavily over Steve, possession and protection in the gesture, needing to know his Omega was safe in his arms.

            “I love you so much Stevie,” Bucky breathed, voice deep, the rasp of Alpha coating each word before he captured Steve’s mouth once more, tongue stroking deep. Steve groaned at the eroticism of tasting himself on Bucky’s mouth. The blond eagerly sucked on Bucky’s tongue, biting at it sharply, and just that quickly, Bucky was thrusting against him, the glide of their cocks against one another a torturous delight. Gripped in heat, Steve hadn’t softened at all after his sudden and violent orgasm, his hard cock beautifully sensitive. Dropping his head to rest on Steve’s thickly muscled shoulder, Bucky shifted a hand to Steve’s hip, pinning the blond down to better control the thrusts, sheer dominance in the gesture. At the nearly bruising grip, Steve melted, little mewling noises of delight rumbling in his throat at being so blissfully manhandled.

            “Come on Stevie, I wanna feel you come, Jesus you’re so sexy,” Bucky growled in encouragement, knowing full well while in the throes of his heat, Steve would need to find release time and time again, with little to no respite between. Bucky could not wait to work each orgasm from his lover, in all the ways he’d always dreamed of, until Steve could remember nothing else, could say no word but Bucky’s name. Only then would Bucky give in to his own overwhelming need, and claim Steve entirely at last. Darkly satisfied when at the command Steve shattered again, pulsing wetly between them, the blond’s scent soaked into Bucky’s skin as he continued to gently rut his hips against Steve, and Bucky fucking adored it. He hoped the scent of Steve would soak into his very cells until it became permanently entwined with his own.

            Stilling his own hips, refusing to hurtle over the edge that hovered dangerously near, Bucky pressed kiss after kiss to Steve’s sweat slicked neck, his damp temple, his panting mouth, adoration in every brush of his lips. He smiled when Steve began to weakly returned the kiss, the haze wrapped around the blond sliding apart enough for him to try to slide a hand between them, reaching towards Bucky’s throbbing cock. Yet before he could, Bucky easily captured his wrist, and held it firmly against the mattress. In part because he knew if Steve touched him the way Bucky had been fantasizing about for ages, there would be no holding back. And the Alpha inside him needed to be deep inside his Omega when that happened, to knot him, to lock them together, to pour himself into his Omega with the most intimate gift he could give. But more, Bucky was nowhere close to being done exploring every inch of Steve, and his own pleasure was secondary, irrelevant in the face of Steve’s overwhelming need..

            “Uh uh, baby. This is about you. You just let me… just _let_ me,” Bucky ordered, his lust deepened voice a raspy enticement that had Steve melting submissively in his grip once more. Grinning, Bucky gave Steve no further time to recover before he reached between them, and wrapped his hand around the still jerking length of Steve’s erection, fingers wrapped possessively around it.

            “Christ, you feel so perfect baby, so gorgeous.” Steve’s cock was _beautiful_ , and Bucky barely noted his own groans of clawing arousal at he explored the thick length with covetous fingers, learning the feel of silky skin over steel, pressing just so at the sensitive spot beneath the broad head.

            Steve’s whimpers sounded nearly pained as Bucky gently stroked him, fingers slick with his earlier release, yet within moments, he was thrusting up into the snug grasp, staring up at Bucky with a bleary eyed adoration Bucky knew he’d never deserve, yet would be so fucking grateful for every day of his life he was fortunate enough to see it. “That’s right, doll,” Bucky coaxed, thumb swirling over the flaring head, as fingertips memorized the feel of delicately soft skin running over the shaft. “Going to make you feel so good,” he promised, the vow one he meant with every beat of his heart. He _had_ to make Steve feel good, more than he needed his next breath.

            Even as he continued to stroke the blond, Bucky shifted positions, adjusted Steve until he could kneel between Steve’s sprawled thighs rather than straddling them, and stared down with awe at Steve’s pretty little hole now visible to him. The ring of muscle continuously clenched and relaxed, each flex pushing out more mouthwatering slick onto the sheets until Bucky knew they’d forever smell of his lover. The knowledge gave him a visceral satisfaction, and he watched the sight, completely enthralled, until Steve spoke, his ragged voice commanding Bucky’s immediate attention.

            “Please, Bucky. Please,” Steve panted, no embarrassment in him, the emotion impossible to feel when each release only left him hungrier for more. Biting his plush, kiss swollen bottom lip, Steve groaned blissfully when Bucky gave his cock one more lingering caress before trailing fingers down his cock, over his tightly drawn balls, and lower still, to at last stroke a delicate fingertip through the slick bathing him in welcoming enticement.

            “Oh Jesus, Stevie, my Omega, you feel so good,” Bucky swore as he gently pressed deep, and felt Steve’s body give way so easily. The feel of the blond clenching tightly around the stroking finger even as it relaxed so perfectly, simply _made_ to be possessed, had Bucky groaning. He fisted his own cock as it jerked, desperate to surge forward and experience the heaven of Steve’s body at last, until they occupied the same space, the same air, the same body and were one.

 _Not yet_ , Bucky thought, and whether it was an order or a plea for restraint he did not know, but he had to coax more pleasure from Steve. Had to prove to the Omega he had not chosen wrong, that despite all of Bucky’s short comings and inexperience, he was still capable of taking care of the man he loved, the man who might even become his mate… He had to know that when the heat retreated, leaving nothing but clear thinking, that Steve would have no cause to regret asking Bucky for everything.

            Sliding another finger deep, Bucky swore at how gorgeously Steve opened for him, the blond’s hips jerking helplessly as he fucked himself down on the stroking digits. “Yes, yes, yes,” Steve gasped out, the chanting an exquisite accompaniment to the filthy wet noises filling the room, as Bucky stretched him open further. Strokes growing harder though no less tender, Bucky smoothed his free hand over Steve’s hip, down one trembling thigh. Soothing the man even as he pushed him higher.

            “There you go, baby doll. God you take it so good, feel so amazing, so hot and wet,” Bucky praised mindlessly, as a third finger joined the first two, watching in teeth gritting awe as Steve’s little hole stretched so prettily, enticing Bucky to give him more. Curling his fingers, Bucky skimmed them searchingly over satiny smooth walls until he felt Steve jolt violently, the shout closer to a scream, and knew he’d found it. That delightful bundle of nerves that left Steve gasping for air and begging in slurred words for more. Rubbing firmly over it, Bucky was begging as well as he coaxed Steve to go over one more time. Once more to assure Bucky that just maybe he deserved this priceless gift of Steve. “That’s it, Stevie, let go.”

            Cock leaking a never ending stream of pre-come, only adding to the beautiful mess already glistening on his abdomen, Steve’s breath came out in aborted little stutters. The flush in Steve’s face spread down his chest, an expanding display of his need, and Bucky adored it. He continued to stroke Steve’s prostate with a ruthlessness that matched the relentless demand of his own cock, the entire world narrowing down to the writhing man sprawled out before him. Nothing else mattering besides pleasuring his Stevie, giving him everything.

            “Come for me baby,” he ordered, voice so deep is was nearly inhuman, gratification washing through him as Steve wailed out his orgasm, body clenching violently around Bucky’s hand. The pleasure Bucky felt watching Steve so thoroughly wrecked burned through his own body in a singeing bliss that left him forever changed.

            Even as Steve was still coming, cock jetting stream after stream in a display as shocking as it was arousing, Bucky flipped the blond over, legs pushed apart with impatience roughened hands, and put his mouth upon that beckoning hole.

            Bucky’s vibrating moan of delight at tasting Steve’s slick, the flavor pure intoxication on his tongue, was lost beneath the scream torn out of Steve’s lungs, the blond’s chest heaving, hands flying out to grab the metal bars of the headboard, and _hold on_.

 

 

Were he capable of thinking, Steve might have felt shock to discover it was possible to become nothing more than a shaking mass of sensation. He was drowning in it, yet rather than the panic and fear he’d experienced over the initial buffeting waves, he was floating in pleasure so surreal doing anything as simple as stringing words together into complete thoughts, form sentences, was completely beyond him.

            With each possessive touch of Bucky’s fingers, every claiming press of Bucky’s gorgeously sculpted lips, Steve felt the part of him which had felt uncertain, perhaps even unlovable, sliding further away. As Bucky took him apart, and put him back together into something new, something whole, he felt more adored than he knew it was possible to feel. And every second of it was drenched in agonizingly gorgeous pleasure.

            Steve hadn’t _known_ , could never have guessed what it was to experience a heat of this magnitude. But more, he could never have imagined the ecstasy he would be submerged in at being so incredibly taken care of. Bucky, _Alpha_ , left him safe, grounded even as each release sent him flying higher. The man coaxed new levels of rapture from him, until he no longer knew when each orgasm started or ended, his entire body simply a vibrating, pulsing vessel of constant bliss.

            But this… oh _this_. Steve’s entire being was focused on the feel of Bucky lavishly kissing and sucking gently on him, before licking straight _inside_ of him. This was an entire new level of euphoria he was not so certain he’d survive. Moaning wildly, Steve pushed back into the incredible sensation, the abrasive feel of Bucky’s shadow of stubble raw and addicting against his skin, even as he uselessly tried to pull away. Steve felt every Omega instinct thrill at the way _his_ Alpha held him effortlessly, strong hands keeping him spread while holding him perfectly in place. To be tasted, and pleasured, and used. Fuck, even as Steve sobbed out what might have been another orgasms, the pleasure too all-consuming to be certain any more, it was suddenly no longer enough.

            The search for words was difficult, but he clung to the only one that mattered. “Bucky,” Steve managed at last, barely recognizing the sound of his voice. His body trembled when Bucky’s tongue curled wickedly inside of him, catching on his rim before the brunet pulled back enough to scrape his chin gently across the swell of Steve’s ass. Shuddering at the moment of respite, Steve tried again. Could only rasp out, “Bucky,” once more.

            Immediately, the brunet was prowling back up his body, the feel of hot, heavy muscle setting over Steve making him tremble in blissful relief. Brushing his lips across Steve’s shoulder in question, Bucky questioned with open concern, “You okay Stevie?” Jesus, Steve loved him. More than anything. More than life itself. He knew his life from this moment on could never be survived if it didn’t have Bucky in it. With the soul deep knowledge soaking into his bones, Steve managed to find the sense and strength for words. More words.

            “I need you Bucky.” More than anything. “Knot me. Bond me.”

            Bucky fell still, apart from his fingers jerking then clenching until his knuckles were bone white on the sheets. “Stevie… are you sure? If you changed your mind – maybe we should wait until… the heat…” Bucky broke off, the mingled hope and uncertainty so naked in his voice shattering Steve’s heart all over again. Christ, the idea that Bucky though Steve could be undecided about Bucky being his Alpha forever - he could not bear it.

            Turning his head blindly, until Bucky, perfect wonderful Bucky, gave in to the silent request and met his mouth in a kiss that despite the taste of slick and lust was heartbreakingly soft and sweet, Steve pulled back long minutes later. He met that half terrified gaze with all the calm certainty he felt in his very being. In this, Steve’s faith was strong enough for both of them. “I love you Bucky. I always have. Make me yours forever.”

            Storm grey eyes growing damp, Bucky bit down on his lip harshly, before a smile bright enough to light the world spread across his face. And he nodded. “Till the end of the line,” he whispered. At the vow, Steve instinctively arched back, the hot, rigid line of Bucky’s cock gliding across the curve of his ass. He felt triumph when Bucky swore, before dropping his forehead to Steve’s shoulder once more, nipping sharply at muscle in a delicious tease of the mating bite yet to come. But the eroticism of the moment was overwhelmed by romance when Bucky gently pulled Steve’s hands free of the headboard, and laid them flat on the sheets. Before Bucky covered them with his own hands, tangling their fingers together in an unbreakable grip.

            Steve sighed in sheer contentment, the noise quickly became a gasp when Bucky shifted his hips, angling his cock towards Steve’s slick hole. Canting his ass up, Steve’s face dropped down to the mattress, shoulders tensing, back muscles flexing as the flared head of Bucky’s cock pressed against the ring of muscle, both of them poised on the edge of ecstasy. Then Bucky slowly thrust forward.

 

 

The glide was endless, Bucky sinking deeper into Steve’s body until it was his _own_. Chest pressed to Steve’s back, muscle molding to muscle, he could feel Steve’s heart beat leaping to meet his own. At last, words failed him, at the unbelievable intimacy of the moment. Shuddering as he was finally fully inside Steve, his lover, his _everything,_ Bucky’s fingers tightened convulsively around Steve’s. The ache in his chest that was nothing but love grew sharper when Steve held his hands all the tighter, even as he trembling in Bucky’s possessive hold.

            “Bucky,” Steve groaned, body clenching helplessly, the slick spasm around his cock stealing the breath from Bucky’s chest. Gasping, Bucky’s hips jerked in defenseless response, Steve’s resulting muffled cry so pleasured it sounded like pain. “More, please, more,” Steve panted, body arching in a sinuous wave as he fucked himself back on Bucky’s cock, the smooth, seductively gorgeous motion completely instinctive. Glorying in the sensation of being possessed entirely by Steve at last, their joining shockingly new and stunning, and everything he’d ever dared dream of, it was with a knowledge born into his very cells that had Bucky pulling back, then surging forward.

            Steve’s muffled cries turning into gasps of ecstasy, and the sound was a symphony, a glorious harmony to the lusciously wet sound of Bucky’s dick fucking into him, the slap of sweat slicked skin against skin. Teeth clenched against the bliss of Steve’s tight ass wordlessly begging for more, coaxing Bucky deeper and harder with each thrust, clenching tightly against the thick length of him as he dragged back out as though reluctant to let him go for the briefest of moments, Bucky felt the growl building in his chest. Unable to hold back the vibrating snarl, one of possession and promise and _love_ , Bucky nearly lost the control he’d been clinging to with desperate fingertips from the moment he’d walked in the door and seen Steve on hands and knees, when Steve, gorgeous, perfect _Steve_ , melted in delighted submission at the noise. Body going lax, he lolled his head to the side, expose the arch of his neck, his whimpers instinctive noises of acceptance and pleading in one.

            Their sharp gasps sliced through the air when Bucky’s cock swelled, knot forming, and when Bucky might have hesitated for the briefest of moments, needing to _know_ Steve was with him, the blond gasped out a breathless, “ _Yes_.” The single word resonated with command, power, certainty and expectation. Bucky was powerless to do anything besides precisely what his Omega commanded.

            Sobbing aloud, Bucky’s eyes clenched shut as he pressed his knot into the gripping grasp of Steve’s body, locking them together, hips now surging wildly beyond all control, body staking its claim in a wild fury of love and lust and instinct. Steve’s cries were nearly feral in response, when each stroke had Bucky’s knot tugging against his stretched rim, before fucking deep, Bucky locked within his body yet still roughly thrusting, dragging along over-sensitized nerves. Despite the sheer desperation seizing control, Bucky was still focused on his Omega. It was with that adoring focus that had him angling his hips until he was rubbing over Steve’s prostate with each thrust. _One more time, just one more_.

            Pulling his hands free of Steve’s, Bucky slid one beneath the blond, grasping Steve’s erection with a reverent hold, worshiping his lover with each stroke of his fingers, each thrust of his body an act of devotion. The other glided under Steve, hooking over one shoulder, holding his Omega perfectly in place, as Bucky nuzzled at the sensitive skin where neck met shoulder. Lapping at it, greedy for the taste that was every bit as sweet as the scent practically drowning him, Bucky scrapped his teeth delicately over trembling muscle. Absorbing the high keening noise Steve let out, Bucky found his voice at last.

            “ _Mine_ ,” he growled. Before he gave in to every desire he’d ever held, and bit deep.

            Steve erupted, body convulsing around Bucky’s cock, clamping so hard on the knot buried deep it was nearly pain, as his erection pulsing violently in Bucky’s grip. Even as the feel of Steve coming around him, the sound of Steve’s cry enveloping him, the renewed surge of pheromones and slick heavy in the air, all pushed Bucky to his own release at last, it was the brand new sensation tearing through Bucky’s chest that shoved him over the edge.

            Shout deafening, Bucky shattered, holding Steve tight with all the strength he possessed, face pressed into trembling muscle, gasping mouth brushing over the mark permanently etched in golden skin. Yet the physical grasp was no match for the hold he felt, _inside_ of him. It was as though an invisible yet unbreakable strand had woven Steve straight into his heart, and he could _feel_ the wave of emotions Steve felt, within his own soul. Shock, elation, wonder, and above all, a love so fierce Bucky wondered how he could have ever doubted it. It was the most precious gift he’d ever received.

            Gasping at the impact of two souls merging, Bucky released his bruising grip on Steve’s shoulder, and raised his shaking hand to brush trembling fingers along the side of Steve’s face. Blinking hazy eyes, the blue cleared slowly as Steve gazed up at Bucky with all of the adoration the brunet could literally feel inside of him. “My Alpha,” Steve whispered, voice raw and beautiful beyond belief.

            The response was instinct and truth. “My Omega,” Bucky murmured gently. _Mine_ , he thought wondrously. Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sips a frosty beer* Yup. So all that just happened. *gazes off dreamily into the distance*  
> You may have noticed, there is now a chapter count on this fic! That's right, two more chapters to wrap up this epic saga. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if so, I'd love to hear from you.


	14. Chapter 14

When Steve woke, he was uncertain how much time had passed. It could have been hours, or days that the heat had held him in his grasp, the never ending waves of need bending time into something blurred and indeterminable. Yet each moment was burned into his memory forever, every second a precious gift he could never have dreamed.

            Snuggling deeper into the softness that surrounded him, Steve left his eyes closed as he took careful inventory of himself. There was a deep ache in each muscle, a new but not unexpected result of the heat that had burned through him with such overwhelming fury. Sharper, but more delicious was the erotic pain that throbbed with each motion he made, a blissful reminder of how entirely Bucky had possessed him. Yet soreness aside, Steve felt incredible. More complete than he had ever before know. And he knew it had everything to do with the mark upon his neck, and the invisible bond in his heart, where he could feel Bucky inside of him, a sensation that would last long after the physical evidence of Bucky’s lovemaking had passed.

            Feeling soft lips brush over the mark pressed deep into his skin, Steve stirred himself to open his eyes at last. He met a stormy grey gaze so soft with adoration, his heart threatened to simply stop. “Hey there, Stevie. You back with me? How are you feeling?” Bucky questioned, tugging the blond closer into his cuddling embrace.

            “Bucky,” Steve breathed, before emotion rose thick in his throat, and he could do nothing more than curl into his lover, his everything, pressing his face into Bucky’s neck. The scent that rolled over him in waves was one of comfort and safety. God, Bucky smelled so good, overworked muscles cried out as they tensed in instinctive response, Steve’s body so hungry for more. Yet this hunger, while insatiable and one he was sure would last forever, was all his own, without the sharp edge of heat fueling his need. Even so, Steve was content to simply burrow deeper into Bucky’s hold, soaking in the feeling of the other man, who was so much more incredible than he’d ever dared to imagine.

            The heat had been interminable. The demands of Steve’s body were practically never ending, and Bucky had incredible met every one. With his hands, his mouth, his cock, his entire _body_ , he’d wrung release after earth-shattering release from Steve. Bucky had knotted him countless times, and each time had only strengthened the bond further, until Steve could practically feel Bucky’s heart beating next to his own, tucked protectively beneath his ribs where Steve could make sure no harm could ever come to it. It had been bliss, even when his entire being had become so sensitized the slightest brush over his skin had him crying out in mingled agony and ecstasy.

            Even more than the sheer relief Bucky had provided his body, Steve had been overwhelmed by the care Bucky had given _Steve_ , in those rare moments between the waves of the heat. He’d tucked Steve in blankets so firmly, there’d been no hope of escape – not that Steve had _any_ intention of breaking free from the wonderful imprisonment – before disappearing into the kitchen. Bucky was never gone for long before he’d return, bearing all of Steve’s favorite treats, and coaxing him to eat. Chocolate, grapes, cubes of cheese and crisp slices of apple. Long sips of water and energy drinks to replete Steve’s limply exhausted body.

            In the longest break, Bucky had even carried Steve’s weakened frame to the shower, and effortlessly held him in the stream of the spray, washing every inch of his body with a gentle reverence that’d had Steve biting back tears. Until the soft, undemanding touch of Bucky’s hands had incited the next wave, and Bucky had pinned Steve to the wall, thrusting into the blond until Steve had been sobbing his name. All the while, he’d buried Steve in the most adoring of words, each sound from perfectly sculpted lips like an avalanche of flower petals burying Steve in their softness. Steve had never felt so loved, every touch and caring gesture feeling like Bucky was _worshiping_ him.

            “Stevie, you okay?” Bucky questioned, the concern in his voice piercing through the lassitude surrounding Steve. Fighting through the lingering effects of the heat, Steve nodded, face still pressed against Bucky’s scent glands. Pressing a soft kiss there, he felt the brunet relax, and tried to wiggle back far enough to look into Bucky’s face. Tried, being the operative word.

            Steve frowned in confusion when the motion took far more effort than he’d anticipated, even accounting for his post-heat weakness. Then he felt his eyes go wide when he looked around and realized Bucky had made him a cloud soft nest out of every single blanket and pillow in the apartment, the not insignificant weight of them practically burying Steve. Blinking back the tears that were the result of love so wide his chest could hardly contain it all, Steve beamed up at Bucky.

            “I love you.” It wasn’t the reassurance he’d intended, but once his lips had parted, no other words seemed nearly as important. It seemed to work just the same, the lingering tension in Bucky disappearing completely as he grinned back just as wide.

            “I love you too. I’m glad that you – that you still – that you don’t-” Trailing off awkwardly, Bucky shrugged, settling for just staring at Steve as though he’d hung every star in the sky. Yet Steve understood, those same feelings swirling within himself.

            “That it wasn’t just the heat and I actually love you?” Steve supplied. He watched Bucky’s face grow serious as he nodded, the hand possessively closed over the bite mark on Steve’s neck tightening before Bucky visibly forced himself to let go. “The heat didn’t make me say those things. I was actually planning on telling you how I felt, before, well… everything,” Steve admitted, the naked honesty in his voice undeniable. Watching the play of emotion over Bucky’s face, he added in a quieter voice, “But if the heat was the reason for you-”

            Before Steve could complete the sentence, could offer the one and only out he would be strong enough to make before things went any further, Bucky cut off his words with a kiss as furious as it was glorious. “I _love_ you,” Bucky reiterated, a surge of possessive Alpha scent washing over Steve in a brilliant wave of reassurance. “And now that you’re mine, I’m not giving you back.”

            “So… I guess that makes me your boyfriend, huh?” Steve teased, even as his heart clenched painfully, ecstatically. Bucky snorted, and rolled his eyes.

            “My boyfriend. My bond mate. And sooner rather than later, my husband.”

            That had the joking grin sliding right off Steve’s face, eyes huge once more as he stared at Bucky. “Husband?” Steve repeated in shock. In awed disbelief. Not all married couples were bonded. And not all bonded couples were married. The decision to wed was a personal one, couple to couple, yet Steve could not deny it was a dream he’d always tucked away deep in his heart. The idea of belonging to Bucky in that way, in _every_ way now that they had the bond he’d longed for, it was as dazzling as it was unbelievable.

            Seeing his stunned look, Bucky’s expression went from righteously annoyed to smugly pleased. “Oh yeah, baby. With my mark on your neck, my scent on your body, and my ring on your finger, no one will ever doubt you’re mine. Or try to hit on you, if they know what’s good for them,” he added in a pithy mutter. Steve rolled his eyes even as he snuggled deeper into the sheets, knowing the signals were hardly necessary when he was sure no one would hit on him regardless, but loving the display of possessiveness nonetheless. It was just more proof Bucky truly _did_ want him above all others. It might take forever to truly accept it, but Steve was happy to spend the rest of his life trying.

            “But,” Bucky tacked on quickly, eyes focusing back in after staring off in the distance, clearly considering all the ways he’d take down his imaginary competition. “This isn’t me asking now. Cause I’ve been planning it forever, and there’s no way I’m doing it all sweaty and unromantic.”

            Body wiggling excitedly like a damn puppy, Steve’s heart skipped a beat at the idea of Bucky having spent time envisioning such a thing, and he worried that after the work out he’d given the poor organ in the last few hours – days? – his poor heart might give out altogether. Yet before he could following that line of thought, or teasingly press Bucky for details of this plan, Steve’s attention was stolen as he felt something underneath the pillow his head was currently resting on. Something that did not belong among this nest of fuzzy blankets and plush pillows.

            Pulling it out, Steve propped himself up on one elbow as he stared with no shortage of confusion at the item in his hand. He was not confused about _what_ it was – the ancient NASA t-shirt was unquestionably one of his own garments. The only questions were _how_ and _why_ it had ended up in Bucky’s bed.

            Lifting his gaze to meet Bucky’s, Steve’s brow lifted even higher at the expression of embarrassed guilt moving over those gorgeous features. “Uh, Buck?”

            Quickly, Bucky snatched the shirt of out his hand, and tossed it off the bed and out of sight, before shooting Steve a winning smile. “So, I’m starved. What do you say to pizza?” he practically sang, in a pathetic attempt at diversion that in no way succeeded. Although Steve’s stomach did growl at the suggestions because, pizza.

            “Bucky.”

            Groaning when it became evident Steve was not going to let this go, Bucky flopped down onto his stomach, burying his face in his hands. Yet muffled as they were, Steve had no trouble picking out the words that tumbled out of his lover. “I might have been stealing and wearing your clothes. And then giving them back. So you’d smell me, and uh, want to be with me,” Bucky mumbled out, flustered and completely adorable.

            _Oh my God,_ Steve thought with delight, amazed at the ridiculous, and ridiculously adorable measures Bucky had taken in their completely bumbling attempts at courtship. They were both idiots. Complete and utter idiots. Even further proof, he decided with no small sense of elation, that they were meant to be.

            Flopping down until he was burying the other man under his bulk, Steve started to pepper kisses over Bucky’s shoulders and neck. He licked and teased until Bucky unburied his face enough to let Steve start lavishing that in kisses too. Thrusting his renewed erection against the silky skin at the small of Bucky’s back, his arousal having nothing to do with heat and everything to do with the absolute dork he’d gotten himself bonded to, Steve let out a happy noise of surprise when Bucky suddenly flipped them over, Bucky now on top and chest to chest with him. “Mission accomplished,” Steve husked, the teasing tone of his voice lost at the feel of Bucky thrusting pointedly against him, the slide of their cocks against one another sheer heaven. “All I want is you.”

            Swearing, the tenor of his gravely voice somewhere between grateful and painfully aroused, Bucky pressed that perfect mouth to Steve’s. Wrapping his powerful thighs around Bucky’s slender hips, Steve gasped into the kiss, overcome with emotion and sensation. Pizza could wait.

            Clearly in agreement, Bucky slid deep into the welcoming slickness of his body, even as he deepened the wet, filthy, perfect kiss. _Yup_ , Steve decided vaguely as he arched into the powerful thrusts. _Meant to be_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers! After a delay, I have returned once more! I wanted to be writing, but alas, was spending my time at Disneyland XD And very happily was imagining these two dorks having the time of their lives riding all the rides and eating all the Dole Whips. * happy sigh * But now that I am back, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next will be a tiny epilogue, where in addition to these two, someone else will get the happy ending they deserve ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The laaaaassttt chapter! *sniffles, wipes away a tear discretely*

_One Year Later_

 

Staring at the wall, Bucky was in awe of Steve all over again. The sensation was not a new one, when the man he’d loved his whole life still managed to take him by surprise time and again. With his kindness, his brilliance, his innate talent, the gorgeousness that shined from his soul outwards. But this…

            Feeling the hand sliding into his own, fingers twining together in a seamlessly perfect fit, Bucky turned to smile at the subject of his thoughts, the responding smile one he still could hardly believe he had the fortune to wake up to every day. “Steve, when you told me what this art show would be about, I had no idea…” Overcome, Bucky simply gestured a bit helplessly. The physical evidence of the love Steve held for him was as unmistakable as it was incredible.

            Smile turning shy, Steve rubbed at the back of his neck even as a flush creeped up in his face. It was a look that Bucky privately adored – particularly now that he knew just how far that blush extended. “Yeah, it’s a bit, uh, excessive,” Steve admitted, visibly more than a bit embarrassed. Which Bucky would absolutely not stand for.

            Turning, gliding his hands around Steve’s perfect narrow waist, shown off perfectly in an exquisitely tailored suit jacket, Bucky tugged the blond until there was no space between them and he could command the attention of those gorgeous blue eyes. “I think the word you were looking for was amazing. Incredible, even.”

            At that, Steve’s eyes went soft, his adoration for his mate written in the lines of his face, and well, Bucky just had to pull him into a kiss for that, didn’t he? Swallowing the surprised yet pleased noise Steve made, Bucky coaxed those plush, incredibly soft lips to move with his own, the sensation every bit as amazing as their very first kiss. It was something he knew he’d never tire of, each taste of his bond mate only making Bucky endlessly crave more. And most particularly now, when he wanted to show his appreciation for the sweepingly romantic gesture that was Steve’s latest art show.

            When Steve had hesitantly questioned a few days after their mating if Bucky would mind posing for him, Bucky had been delighted, and completely moved. It was one thing to have wrapped his head around the improbable idea that Steve _loved_ him, and had in fact loved him for years. It was quite another for Steve to show it in such wonderful ways. So he’d quickly agreed, delighted to give his Omega anything the blond could ask for. While posing – or rather _trying_ , as he was reminded tolerantly but frequently to stop squiggling about with excitement - Bucky had questioned if he could keep the painting, since Steve had never painted him before. And then he’d lost any hope of maintaining the pose when Steve’s features had worked themselves into an expression of sheer, adorable chagrin. Immediately pounced upon by his Alpha, Steve at last admitted sheepishly, under expert interrogation techniques and threats of tickling, that he _might_ have been using Bucky as his private muse ever since he’d first picked up a paint brush.

            Bucky had been merciless in demanding to know why he’d never seen a single sketch. When Steve had simply rolled his eyes, and waved a hand between them, he had been forced to admit, oh yeah, he had hid his own lifelong obsession as well. Fair enough. But Steve, being the generous and amazing guy he was, had offered to show him some of the work, so long as Bucky promised not to freak out or accuse Steve of being a creepy obsessive guy. At which point, it had been Bucky’s turn to roll his eyes. If anyone took covert obsessions to the next level, he was unquestionably in the running for first place. Even so, Bucky had certainly _not_ expected Steve to lead him to his private, climate controlled storage facility where he kept art prior to selling it, and discover a staggering collection. Each one was a wordless expression of love and adoration, for _Bucky_. The priceless group of paintings was a testimony to the love Steve had carried in his heart for years. His feelings silent, but not unexpressed.

            At that point, Bucky had felt compelled to convey his own devotion in an equally wordless expression. One that had certainly _not_ been outlined on the leasing agreement as acceptable activities in the storage unit. After which, the pair picked a few pieces to hang in a place of honor in their home, seeing as how the artist’s affection for his subject was officially no longer a secret.

            It may have been seconds or minutes later that Bucky heard the voice cutting through his moment of bliss, since time spun out endlessly any time he touched his lover, but regardless, the interruption was not an appreciated one. “Come on now, let’s keep it decent, gentleman. You’re going to scare away all the classy folks here.”

            Pulling back just far enough to appreciate the now thoroughly glazed expression in Steve’s eyes before turning to glare at Sam, Bucky frowned. “Hey, it’s his art opening. He can do what he likes.”

            Sam snorted, as he folded his arms across his chest. “You guys are practically an old bonded couple by now. Shouldn’t public displays of affection be off your repertoire after all this time?”

            Frown deepening to a scowl, Bucky tugged his snickering bond mate, and _husband,_ even closer. “Hey, you might not have any idea how to treat your spouse, but I know how to treat mine.”

            Sliding up to Sam, wrapping a slender arm around his waist, Maria laughed aloud at the expression of affront on her husband’s face. “Score one for Bucky.” When Sam puffed up, clearly ready to defend his honor, and skills in caring for his own spouse, he simmered down just as quickly when she gave his chest a soothing pat. “Be nice Sam, it is a big night for them both.”

            Bucky gave Maria a grateful smile as she tossed him and Steve a wink before steering her husband away, giving them a further moment of privacy. Thankful for the kindness, he met Steve’s gaze once more, overcome by the truth of her words. It _was_ an important night. Not only because Steve had surprised his Alpha by hosting a showing that was comprised entirely of pictures of Bucky, the Omega’s love immortalized in a symphony of pastels, oils and watercolors, splashed across canvas for all the world to see. But because it was precisely a year to the day since the first art showing Bucky had attended.

            In the time since, so much had changed. Not least of all the fact that now he could hold Steve as close as he liked without an excuse. Could tangle their hands together, the matching silver bands upon their fingers a testament of their devotion. Could support his Omega in the millions of ways he’d always dreamed of. But the one thing that remained as constant as the sun was the way they felt for each other. Just about to tug a very willing Steve into another kiss, Bucky froze at the discrete throat clearing noise just off to the side. And found when he turned with yet another scowl one more reminder of that night a year prior. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” Bucky muttered, waves of possessive Alpha scent rolling off him – his instinct to ward off all competition yet one more thing that had not changed a bit.

            Always the diplomatic one, Steve quickly spoke over his husband’s pithy words, smiling at the neatly dressed man who stood near them. “Coulson, wasn’t it? Good to see you again, thank you for coming.”

            “Phil, please,” he beamed. “And of course, when I heard of your newest show, I simply had to come.” Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “And what an exquisite collection this is. Your unbridled emotion for the subject is conveyed so gorgeously, it is a delight to behold. I’m so happy for you two.” About to snarl, Bucky paused. Blinked.

            “You work was always incredible, but now it has truly reached new levels, Steve. I was just telling my wife – Audrey, come over here – I was just telling her how you can practically _feel_ the passion coming off the paintings,” Phil continued blithely. He beamed down at the lovely brunette that came to stand at his side as she reached out to shake Steve’s hand, who had recovered from the surprise significantly quicker than Bucky.

            “Wait… you’re married?” Bucky demanded, much too shocked for any delivery less blunt.

            The couple gazed at one another with adoration, their love was as obvious as the bond mark visible on Audrey’s neck beneath her loosely curled hair. “Twenty years this March,” Phil grinned proudly. Bucky blinked again.

            “But, before… when you wanted to meet with Steve-” Bucky began, sheer confusion holding him in place. There was no way he’d mistaken the desire that had exuded from the Alpha previously. Yet it was simply not _possible_ for a bonded pair to want anyone other than their mate.

            “Yes, I regret we were unable to finish that conversation. I was saying how I’d love to meet with you Steve. You see, I would love to commission you, to put it simply. Although not just a painting. I wanted to fund an entire collection, and am prepared to compensate you generously, the way your art truly deserves.”

            Bucky’s mouth dropped open. Phil really _had_ wanted to meet with Steve to discuss his passion. For _art_. The scent of desire he’d emanated had not been not for the artist but for his _art_. And Bucky had totally cock-blocked Steve from a major career furthering opportunity. Shit.

            Meeting Bucky’s stunned gaze with an understanding look, Audrey smiled sympathetically. “Phil can get a bit… intense over things he’s excited about. But we really would love to meet with you to discuss a commission, and see if that’s something you might be interested in.”

            “Here’s my card. Please, feel free to give me a call any time,” Phil said, pushing the rectangle into Bucky’s limp hand, before resting his own hand on his wife’s shoulder. “And congratulations on your show this evening. We wish you all the success.”

            As one, Bucky and Steve watched the pair stroll away, before turning towards each other once more, Bucky’s face a study in embarrassed shame, Steve’s complete shock. Before Steve burst out laughing, causing Bucky to groan and press his face into the blond’s neck in an effort to hide his own blush.

            “Oh my God,” Steve snorted out.

            “Shut up,” Bucky muttered.

            “No, no. We really owe Phil, for his admiration of my … passion,” Steve continued relentlessly, the laughter in his voice barely contained. Bucky pulled back to glare his Omega in submission. Which proved to be as useless an endeavor as it ever was, Steve completely immune to his huffy Alpha look, but Bucky could hope.

            “Why, so I can feel horrible for having kept you from a lucrative job offer because I went all caveman?”

            Steve’s expression gentled, chuckles fading away as he pressed a kiss on Bucky’s pouting mouth. “No, because it got your hands on me that night. Which was directly responsible for the best orgasm I’d had in years, several hours later.”

            Brows knitting temporarily in thought, before Bucky recalled in vivid detail that night, and how Steve’s sounds and scent had nearly driven him wild, his scowl smoothed out into a smug grin. “Is that so?” he questioned, voice purposefully deep, and just shy of rough. Bucky had the pleasure of watching Steve’s pupils dilate visibly, of hearing his breath quickening. And Steve’s scent, fuck, it was gorgeous, sweet, lush, aroused and so damn addictive. Leaning in until his lips brushed against the blond’s ear, Bucky added, “What do you say, we go home and see if I can do better?”

            Steve’s mouth dropped open. Before he closed it, and visibly swallowed.

            “Yup. That sounds … uh, good. Good plan,” Steve managed hoarsely.

           Bucky tugged his very willing husband towards the door, casually waving off Sam’s indignant protests at having the artist abducted halfway through his art showing. Bucky’s Omega wanted him. Nothing else in the world mattered. And Bucky, he would give Steve _precisely_ what he needed. Exactly as he always would. No one deserved it more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it - the end of a story I came to adore way more than I expected! What a fun departure from my typical stories, I may very well venture into the delightful world of ABO again in the future.   
> As always, if you've enjoyed this fic all the way until the end, your comments mean the world to me. Thank you all who have taken the time to read, to leave kudos, and leave comments on any story of mine. Your support and kind words truly make sharing my work so special and worthwhile. Thank you lovely readers!


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